


Second User

by Hadithi



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M, Slow Burn Romance, adorable older teens falling in love, canon divergent post-movie, just like all romance, lots of weird dreams, super heavy romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:40:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 55,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23383192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hadithi/pseuds/Hadithi
Summary: After an odd incident as Stevonnie, Connie finds herself added as a second user to Steven's gem - able to share his magic, and deeply tied to him. They both struggle with their new romantic relationship, their new powers, and what it means to be independent.---------With a frustrated growl Connie ripped off her shirt and pants and went for her pajamas, and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.Pink.Wide-eyed, her fingers traced across the skin of her belly, but the sensitive tips of her fingers could find no oddness or lumps. The pink diamond emblazoned there seemed to be as much a part of her skin as any beauty mark. There was no glow. There was no strange feeling. It was as odd as finding a new freckle, if a freckle was magic. If a freckle had implications.
Relationships: Connie Maheswaran/Steven Universe
Comments: 410
Kudos: 884





	1. Existing

_ Have you ever read a book so hard you forgot you exist? _

Stevonnie raced across crisp snow in bare feet and hardly felt the cold of it. Connie’s practical mind had thought once that they should figure out their shoe size and carry a change before they went out on missions, but Steven had pointed out that it never seemed to matter. So they went barefoot together, in cold powder and hot sand and over rough stone, and never once did their feet come away aching.

Being Stevonnie was being more than just Steven. His feet would scratch and ache. Connie’s feet would get torn up and bloodied. But Stevonnie wouldn’t have frostbite from skidding beneath the paws of a corrupted quartz. The blow that sent them flying didn’t leave a bit of pain.

Once upon a time, fusion was a wild flurry of blade and teeth and exhilaration, because Stevonnie existed to fight, and they were good at it. Steven’s shield took the blows and pushed away. Connie’s sword chipped and weakened the corrupted gems, or enemy gems. There was always the tiniest bit of guilt from relishing in the fight, but it was soothed by the knowledge that this was pain necessary for healing. A pricking shot to heal a much longer ache.

But today, fusion was freedom. It was scrambling across a mountainside too dangerous for most people to explore. It was sledding on their shield with giddy laughter. It was joy and hilarity and the knowledge that there was no Diamond Authority or Cluster or liberating the galaxy to swoop in and rush in and ruin their good time. 

Steven and Connie were Stevonnie, and they fell into the familiar feeling of not existing at all.

* * *

When they landed on the jungle moon, survival meant fusion, and fusion meant a lot of things. Usually, in a fusion, Connie’s mind would split between a cool blue room with her best friend, living out the fantasy of being a new person made real. Sometimes, the room was orange, and the fantasy was out of her control. On the moon, there wasn’t a room at all.

On the moon, Steven and Connie had thoroughly not existed.

They were a storybook hero - Stevonnie. Stevonnie was everything they loved about each other, courage and brilliance and strength and grace. And they were themself on the moon, and very much not themselves. They were an I and not a we.  _ We _ could fall apart.  _ I  _ could not. So there was no Connie and no Steven and whenever there was a Connie and Steven it was laced with worry and panic and a frantic need to compromise.

In the dark, in shelter, they could exist for a short while. If they fell apart, they would have time to get together. It had been a long day of not existing, and it was a relief to come back into being in any small way. The hammock wasn’t set up yet, but the fire was going. They talked in the blue room and, like always when they talked in the blue room, Stevonnie talked to themself outside of it.

“I tried to explain fusion to my parents once,” Stevonnie said, staring into the blue flickering flames.

They looked cautiously optimistic. “What’d you say?”

They propped their face up on their chin. “I said  _ have you ever read a book so hard you forgot you exist? _ ”

Flames crackled. Connie thought about what could be in it. Butane made fire blue, like a stove. That wasn’t dangerous. She got the ghost of a thought from Steven. Blue flame was pretty, softer than red. He liked it. Once, he had burned driftwood, and it had been a pretty thing. Greg had snatched him away in a panic, because it was toxic. Toxic fires had lavender in them among the blue.

They relaxed a little.

“It was lonely today,” Steven said, knees curled to his chest in the quiet blue room. Connie couldn’t really hear his voice, but she saw his lips move, she felt the meaning in her own mind. Stevonnie mimicked him, which meant Connie mimicked him in a way, and his words came from their lips. “I really missed you. Sorry for arguing about eating the bird.”

“I missed you too.” Connie hugged herself, and Stevonnie did the same. It wasn’t the same as a real hug. Hugging in the room wasn’t the same. A mental comfort that still left the body touch starved and lonely - though the mental comfort was far better than a real hug could do. Upsides. Downsides. It wasn’t fair. She wanted both. “It’s okay. I argued too. But we stayed together. Garnet would be really proud.”

“She would.” He smiled. “Do you think today was… do you think Ruby and Sapphire feel like we did? But all the time?”

“Yeah. But probably better.”

The moon wasn’t getting much colder, which was a relief. Connie had worried about that, that the nights would be too cold for them and chill would catch them in their sleep. Next to the fire, it was hot. When they set up the hammock it would be comfortably warm. She felt Steven’s agreement, felt a flickering sense of safety and admiration, all without a word.

The feelings were contagious, and because he felt safe, she did too. Because she felt safe, she dared to ask the question she’d always wondered: “Would you want that? If you loved someone like that? Would you want to fuse all the time? It seems like that’s how gems do it.”

“Not all of them,” Steven said with a nervous little frown. “Mom and Pearl were in love, but they didn’t. I think it’s just about the kind of people you are. I don’t think I’d want to always be with someone. It seems really hard and you can’t surprise each other. It’s nice, but I don’t think I’d want it.”

She was quiet for a moment. When she remembered the day it didn’t feel real. Sometimes, when she spent a long day playing video games, the memory of the day was the screen and strategies, not sitting in her chair. It felt like that on the moon, but she hadn’t sat in a chair. Her body had vanished and her mind had gone with it, and she only  _ only _ remembered being Stevonnie.

Her voice was a whisper, full of shame and fear. “Not existing for that long was really scary. I don’t think I’d want to do it for a really long time.”

“I wish…” Steven started, and too many emotions came at her to parse properly, before he continued, “I wish I could have some of it all the time. It’s nice having you here, even if you’re not here.”

“Me too.” She smiled.

And something almost changed.

It was a very big something.

They made a hammock instead.

* * *

As near adults, they laughed and stretched and enjoyed strength and magic and wit and togetherness under the high noon sun. Once a place of shelter and safety, Stevonnie was rarely called upon for anything but happiness nowadays, and it was nice to be them.

They brushed a hand through their hair. “Tried to explain being Stevonnie to my parents again. They’re getting weird.”

“Tell them it’s how gems make more gems.”

They burst into giddy laughter, cheeks flushed as they covered their lips. “No! Not that! They keep getting worried I’ll get stuck. You know, because of the whole reading metaphor I gave them. They keep asking what happens if I don’t come back.”

They rolled their eyes. “Yeah, because you can get lost in reading a book forever.”

“I know,” they groaned. They shook their head. “This time I said that it’s something that happens, not something you are. Being Stevonnie is being  _ with _ you. I’m not  _ you _ . I don’t get anywhere. It’s still me. Two teens in a trench coat. Magic stuff or not, I’m always  _ me _ .”

They grinned, making their way leisurely back to the Dondai. “Do you wish you could be us forever?”

“There’s parts of it I wanna keep forever.”

“Me too.”

And something changed.

Something big.

* * *

Once upon a time, Connie had ridden on Lion’s back and clung to Steven and gone to a place she very much felt like she was not supposed to be. Once upon a time, Connie had been left alone for moments in Steven’s house while he rushed to the bakery and her heart had thumped with the knowledge that she was not supposed to be there as Amethyst eyed her from the kitchen and Pearl tidied the clothes and Garnet was  _ Garnet _ on the couch.

In the cool blue room, Connie somehow felt that way again, and fumbled for Steven’s hand. He clutched at hers.

Pink Diamond was there. Rose Quartz was there. Neither of them were right or whole, their forms flickering and broken and more holes than filled in. Together, timidly, they crept towards Steven’s mothers. They waited for an attack. For recognition. But the apparitions seemed hardly conscious, their faces warped with holes and misplaced pixels that reminded them of game graphics gone wrong.

“What is this?” she whispered.

His hand squeezed hers. “I don’t know.”

Then he was there, his other self, pink and unglitched and his hand extended. They didn’t need to breathe in the blue room but Steven’s gasp was hard enough that she felt it in their shared lungs with an ache. He held her tighter, shaking now. “Brain’s split.”

“What?” She looked at him in a panic.

“Two places.” He trembled and clung at her to hold himself upright. “It’s not bad, just weird. Really weird.”

His other self held out a hand. Connie’s eyes flicked back to the one that held her. “He’s you?”

“We’re us,” the more human-looking Steven confirmed, and swallowed hard.

The pink one spoke softly, his voice steady but deep with emotion that sent chills down her spine. “I want you to stay even when you’re gone.”

“What’s that mean?” she asked.

There wasn’t an answer. There were feelings. When they were apart there was a thing that was missing. There was a quiet loneliness that could only be abated with friends and family for a while, before longing pricked at the back of their minds. The desire to speak without speaking. The desire to be wrapped up in one another when apart.

Stevonnie never felt any of these things. They couldn’t be in two places at once. They couldn’t rush off to live two lives, without heed of what the other half was doing. Stevonnie had power and strength and confidence and love.

Upsides. Downsides. It wasn’t fair. She wanted both.

Her hand took the other Steven’s. Her face was determined and scowling.

Her mind split and her pink self looked back at her and the feeling of not belonging was gone.

Connie gasped so hard breath filled her lungs instead of theirs.

* * *

She brushed her teeth in her sink and thought of awkward laughter and confusion. She thought of Steven nervously checking his gem and finding it unchanged. She thought of them joking about what weird dreams Stevonnie had. They joked about how they clearly missed each other so much lately it was causing hallucinations.

She groaned and put her head in her hands, wondering if it was her fault. It had been uncomfortable lately, awful lately, to find her mind so full of him when she should be doing other things. School was always a burden on her mind, with college looming on the horizon. Tennis practice seemed to run later and later. Violin pieces were getting longer, harder, and the reward for mastering more difficult pieces seemed to be even more difficult pieces. And so her mind would go to him to escape.

With a frustrated growl Connie ripped off her shirt and pants and went for her pajamas, and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

Pink.

Wide-eyed, her fingers traced across the skin of her belly, but the sensitive tips of her fingers could find no oddness or lumps. The pink diamond emblazoned there seemed to be as much a part of her skin as any beauty mark. There was no glow. There was no strange feeling. It was as odd as finding a new freckle, if a freckle was magic. If a freckle had implications.

“I’ll just ask Steven tomorrow,” Connie said to her reflection. “I need to get some sleep.”

She stared at the ceiling, catching only the briefest snatches of unconsciousness before the memory of her mind split in two jolted her back to wakefulness. Her heart panicked and eased over and over in her chest as she struggled to self soothe. Everything was fine. Magic stuff or not, she was still Connie. She was always Connie.

_ Have you ever read a book so hard you forgot you exist? _


	2. It's Not a Bother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connie hops by Steven's house to sort out the odd mark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is canon divergent from the movie, and Steven and Connie aren't a couple yet. Connie is coming up on 17, which means Steven is 18.

It was autumn in Beach City, which didn’t mean much. The woods at the other end of town, near Steven’s house, would be changing from lively green to a sunset of oranges, reds, yellows and browns. The weather turned chilled enough that she switched to pants, and shrugged on the jacket she’d stolen from her father years ago.

At home it meant more warm drinks, and a slight change in produce as they tried to buy more in season. It meant squash soup and baked potatoes. It meant cheap pears and apples.

In the morning, Connie reached for an apple to beat back the hunger, swung her bag onto her back, and headed for the door with only the briefest “Morning, Mom”. The woman in question was sitting at the kitchen table, stirring her coffee, reading the news on her phone as she did at the top of every day.

But Priyanka’s voice snagged her as Connie reached the living room, calling with firm but gentle curiosity, "Honey, where are you going? I thought you were going to stay in and study." 

"It's just gem stuff," she said.

Her fingers wrapped around the doorknob, ready to be done and out for the day, only for her mom to push, "Do you need your sword?" 

She dropped her hand from the door, her mind tiptoeing through the right words. Her mother worried about sword stuff more than ever now that she had seen scorched earth up close and personal. It was better to ease her worries. A smile, a shrug. "It's not _that_ kind of gem stuff, Mom. Steven and I just had some weird stuff with Stevonnie yesterday.”

"If you need advice, I'm here," Priyanka said.

"I don't wanna bother you." She turned the handle, and the door pulled from the frame with a quiet, parting kiss of insulation from wood.

Her mother insisted, "I love you. It's not a bother."

But it was, love or not. Her mother was busy, and Connie was too, and there was no need to tie either of them down when they could each take care of things on their own. It would be wonderful if she could tell her mother every worry and fear without that carrying into her surgeries, but that wasn’t the case.

So Connie headed out the door, down to the station, and swung up onto the bus with natural sugar sweetness on her tongue. Each fresh crunch of the apple woke her up a little more and put her conversation with her mother into the back of her mind, soon to be forgotten.

The ride to Steven’s was as slow as ever, over twenty minutes staring at her phone while her apple shrunk away in her hand. It would be easier to take Lion, but if she bothered him every time she wanted a ride he might not come when it mattered. He was proud, and didn’t take well to being reduced to a taxi.

Things were uneventful as she hopped off at her stop and wandered down to the beach house. Connie greeted gems that rushed by with a bright smile, and paused to chat with Bismuth about the possibility of testing out a new hammer she was making - lightweight enough that even a human as small as herself could swing it.

There was no need to rush, as curious as she might have been at the tattoo of her belly. It was Steven’s mark, so it couldn’t be that harmful. More of a novelty and sign of incoming adventure and curiosities than a danger.

But as she headed up to his home, she could hear a quartz inside - a jasper, most likely. That was something to be bothered about, so she picked up the pace and swept through the door, trying not to be too loud and wind things up any further.

“I’m not doing that anymore,” Steven said, painfully patient as ever. He stood by the couch, arms folded across his chest as he glared up at the heavy Jasper. She was a bit short for her size, the color of a blood orange, and the pointed gem on the back of her hand was cracked.

He pushed on, ignoring her open mouth, “You can heal yourself in Rose’s Fountain, and Garnet has all the essences you need for repairs, but I’m not stopping everything to heal gems. I’m trying to figure out-”

“You’re my Diamond,” the Jasper insisted. Connie wracked her brain for this one - Citrus, was it? That seemed right. She was sour enough. Citrus demanded, “You have to fix this.”

Pearl scowled from her spot near the kitchen table, running a rag and cleaner across the spot as she talked. “Garnet will be back shortly. If you can’t wait, we can take you to the warp now.”

The worst part was standing there, dropping her apple core in the trash beneath the sink, unable to do a thing. She couldn’t fight the gem. That wouldn't be polite, and the gem was technically being polite. She hated being polite. She hated biting her tongue as the quartz demanded this and that, insisted on a permanent spot in Doctor Steven's office.

Steven did his best never to be a bother to anyone. He was trying to take a break after years of working with gems, trying to take time for himself lest overwork lead to an unbelievable breakdown. Yet, somehow, gems always found a way to push at him, to find new ways to tether him to them and exploit his kindness.

As she came to Steven’s side, he kissed her cheek, making her heart pick up pace in her breast. That was new, still, and she still wasn’t quite sure what either of them meant by it. It was a nice greeting, though, even as he mumbled, “Sorry about this.”

Citrus widened her eyes with anger, her face contorting with jealousy as she hissed, “That’s not fair! She’s not even cracked and you’ll fix her?”

Steven groaned, rubbing his face. “I guess you’re right. It’s just a kiss.”

She _wasn’t_ , and the uptick in her heartbeat wasn’t the silly excitement of a friendship slipping into something new. Anger to match the quartz’s, icy and snarling, buzzed in her chest, despite the stillness on her face.

“I can’t do nothing.”

 _She_ couldn't do nothing, not when Steven was raising his thumb to his mouth in a kiss. Yes, it would only take a second, but Steven’s time should not have had to be piecemealed out to every gem who came to his door with demands. He should not owe every moment to duty, especially when the gems gave him so little in return.

The quartz was so smug, so confident, that every moment staring into her face made Connie’s gut twist hard, until the words lashed out of her, until her sword came to her hand and pushed into Citrus’s face. "Maybe you should be more careful with your gem!" 

Everything in the room went still.

Because her sword was tucked away in its scabbard at home. Her sword was not supposed to be shining pink and white energy, sparkling as it came into existence. Her sword was a tangible thing of hardlight and metal. It didn't feel perfectly like an extension of her own arm, her body and soul stretched beyond the tips of her fingers. But that was the sword in her hand, and that was the sword that stopped right before the jasper’s lips.

She dropped the sword and stumbled away from Steven, and all eyes fell on the shortsword that clunked to the wood. Slowly, he knelt to pick it up, weighing it in his hand, then vanished it. His brows wrinkled together as he summoned a shield. Vanished it. Summoned it. Completed the cycle two more times.

His eyes slowly met hers, “I can’t summon a sword.”

She had felt how to summon a weapon before. They did it plenty as Stevonnie. It wasn’t quite explainable, as desperately as she longed for the words to do so. There were things she could use to explain it - a need to protect the ones they loved, the place they called home, and a tiny touch of responsibility and obligation. Steven had said it was different when it was him rather than them, though he never had the words. He never had much of a talent for the abstract.

But Connie could feel that difference for herself. It was not just an obligation, not just a responsibility. There was refusal in it, but it was stronger and more active than that. Rebellion. Not just "No, thank you", but "This will not continue". All those things and a little something extra she hadn’t the words for, and there was a sword. 

Her modus operandi incarnate.

The room was still full of gawkers, only a shocked gasp from Pearl to break the silence. Steven looked to his arm and summoned a shield, and she kind of felt him do it. It was as if, after it happened, she had the faint memory of it - a vague sensation of buzzing at her navel. A split second of lag time.

There they were, sword and shield from the same gem, and both were completely perplexed. Gems could make multiple weapons, of course, but multiple _different_ weapons? When a gem was a soul and a gem weapon the personification of it?

Steven cleared his throat, but it still came out cracked, "Pearl, could Mom-?"

"No," she cut him off. "She absolutely could not."

Connie cleared her throat awkwardly, and slowly lifted her polo to reveal the odd pink tattoo that spread across her belly button. It was still there, and, worse now, glowing like starting tinder in a fireplace.

Her own giggle sounded nervous to her own ears, “Um… I noticed this last night, after being Stevonnie. I think this might have something to do with it.”

A room full of people staring at her navel was uncomfortable, to say the least.

* * *

They rushed her off to Peridot, with Steven worrying over her the whole way. No, it didn’t hurt. She couldn’t feel it at all, and it was only a bit warm when she was using magic. No, it hadn’t done anything in the time they’d been apart. No, she hadn’t noticed any changes. Yes, if she had to guess, it had to do with that weirdness from Stevonnie.

Yes, her heart was thudding with a wild excitement because somehow, after all these years, she had wound up with her own magic. She had no idea what to think of it, other than to enjoy the buzzing that went all the way down to her fingertips from the thrill. _Magic_. She never thought she’d have it outside of Stevonnie.

The excitement was dimmed a little as Peridot still preferred to use earth trash when possible, despite her current access to the more advanced, shiny tech from Homeworld. Connie found herself in a dirty beige lawnchair, her shirt pushed up to her ribs ( _I’m not taking it off, Peridot!_ ) with six wires scotch-taped to her belly. At least there was a cotton ball under each, which made it look a touch more professional, and at least Steven was hooked up to a similar rig beside her, so she wasn’t alone.

Peridot began cheerfully, "Let's think of a gem like one of your simple human computers.”

Connie frowned at that, exchanging a confused look with Steven. “Aren’t gems just really powerful computers?”

She scoffed and shook her head. “Are humans just especially intelligent animals?”

“Uh, yes?”

Peridot stared for a moment, then continued as if Connie hadn’t spoken. “A Diamond, even compared to other gems, is an extremely powerful and expansive data storage tool. Think of it as one of those really fancy gaming computers compared to a solar-powered calculator.”

Pearl murmured from the sidelines, “Even that is hardly a fair comparison, Peridot. The difference between a Diamond and a ruby is-”

“Irrelevant,” Peridot waved her off, and ignored the peeved look that crossed Pearl’s face. “It’s a metaphor for their simple meatbrains to understand. The point is, Pink Diamond wiped all that data clean from her gem. There’s only pieces of her left. She’s… fragmented.”

There was a hesitation, and Steven finished, “And there’s no way to recover the data.”

Peridot charged onward, grateful for the save. “Exactly! But all the data she wiped - instructions on how to run an empire and make more gems and everything a Diamond is supposed to be is gone, and Steven isn’t even using it all! A bunch of it is outsourced to his wetware.”

Steven ignored Pearl’s shudder at the term, raised his eyebrow as he plucked the sensor off his gem. Connie couldn’t blame him. The wires did feel a little tingly and weird against her skin. “Okay. So what’s that got to do with Connie pulling a sword from my belly?”

“That’s where it gets interesting,” Peridot said, dancing in place as she giggled. “The pieces Pink Diamond left behind - You’ve had a few weird dreams, you said? Memories? Just some remnants she missed when she was scraping herself clean.”

She grinned maniacally as she paced, throwing up her arms in her excitement. “I have no idea how she did it, but she… she shared her gem. Like adding a second user to a computer! So there’s her account, which is wiped clean, and your account, which is full of you!”

It fell into place in a heartbeat. The space inside Stevonnie, the flickering clones, Steven’s pink self and her own clone appearing as the world shifted. Connie gasped, sitting up so fast half the wires fell away, “You’re saying I have an account on Steven’s gem!”

“Yes!” she cried, gesturing to her screen as if anyone could understand the data displayed there, which was not only in gem writing but also technobabble that made even Pearl’s eyes narrow in confusion. “I’ve never seen anything like it! But I’ve never seen a gem fuse with a human either.”

As Peridot laughed at the nation, Steven hummed. “I do end up doing a lot of weird stuff.”

“Somehow, Steven’s Diamond has made a slot for you to access, just like his fleshy brain does.” Peridot hopped up behind Steven, her hands gripping either side of his head. “As long as you’re in reasonable proximity, you have access to his gem. I’d guess around a few dozen miles, maybe a few hundred.” 

The little green gem paused, gesturing down to his gem. “Assuming he doesn’t pull access. There seems to be some sort of ranking to users I can’t nail down, but Steven is definitely in charge.”

When Connie looked to Steven, his cheeks were dusted with red. His eyes had cast down to his belly, his fingers trailing slowly over his gem with an odd sort of wonder. She could feel something on her own navel - the lagging memory of his touch, a surreal experience as she half-felt his fingers moments behind the motion.

“It’s sort of like we’re Stevonnie all the time, even when we’re not fused. It’s kinda, um…” His eyes flicked to her with all kinds of hopes and expectations and fears. “Wh-what do you think? Is it weird?”

“Of course it’s not weird! Steven, you trust me enough to let me share your gem,” she said, and as much as she would have loved to stumble over the friendly words that came so naturally to him, there was something more important to cover. She looked to Peridot. “But I shouldn’t be on here without his consent. Can you take me off?”

“I don’t want you off,” he said quickly, and his warm hand took hers with a squeeze.

“But, in the future, if one of us _did_ want off - Could you?”

She was sure Steven didn’t like the idea, even without looking at his face. He was faster than her, always more ready to plunge into intimacy and commitment when it came to their relationship. One of them had to be practical, and that wasn’t a word she’d associate with him.

But if there was anything Connie would keep to the core of their relationship, it was consent. The check-ins, the cautiousness with which they moved through every new space together, was something she couldn’t stand to lose in a simple mistake during fusion. There was something sickening about the idea of being bound to him unwillingly, and him to her, though the idea of doing it of their own free will was something she couldn’t dream of giving up.

Peridot hummed. "It wouldn’t be hard to wipe your account, but there would be side effects."

Steven frowned, squeezing her hand again. "What kind?"

"Allow me to use another metaphor!" Peridot said eagerly. "Sharing the same gem is quite similar to how you to fuse - a relationship! An experience. Parts of you are now tied up in each other. Severing that and putting everything back in its rightful place would be the equivalent of ending your friendship."

Connie squeaked, panic finally settling in as she looked at Steven. His expression mimicked hers as she cried, "We couldn't be friends anymore?!"

"Of course you could. You'd just _feel_ like you ended your friendship." Peridot shrugged and twiddled her fingers as she made an estimate. "It could be up to a year."

"A breakup without the breakup," Connie murmured, chewing her lower lip. Steven’s thumb smoothed across the back of her hand, familiar and soft. Just having him near was enough to ease off the panic. "That’d feel weird. Wouldn’t be a fun time, either. And a breakup with Steven, even if I got to keep him around, would..."

He laughed a little. “I don’t think we’d be getting a lot of work done.”

“Probably a lot of sad movies and ice cream,” she agreed with a laugh. “But that shouldn’t stop us from breaking it off. Steven, it’s your gem. If you ever don’t want me on it, I shouldn’t be there.”

“Same to you,” Steven said, and leaned over to kiss her cheek again. She fought the urge to laugh as the excitement bubbled up in her again. Consensual. Agreed upon. Together. “It’s kind of your gem too now, right? If you don’t want to be here, you should. Especially because all this stuff means some part of her is in here, right?”

Peridot squealed with excitement, coming to take Connie’s other hand. Oh, dear. There was the dread again. The excitement poured off the gem with such enthusiasm Connie could already feel herself becoming a laboratory experiment, and the wires still resting on her stomach didn’t help that feeling.

“Yes! Some part of Connie now resides on your gem and some fraction of her brain is hardlight, just like you and Stevonnie. Everything got shuffled up and mixed and…” She turned to Connie, eyes wide. “You have to let me study you.”

There it was. She retorted, “Another time,” and looked down at her faux gem. A lot of newness, a lot to process. Parts of her were now like Steven - hardlight and human flesh mixed together in one. Parts of her were now outside of herself, residing in him, but the magic she could use proved well enough that it went both ways.

She looked at him, smiling bright. “I think it’s really exciting. A new adventure. A new part of our friendship.”

“Yeah,” he said, and his cheeks pinked. “Who wouldn’t want new stuff in their friendship? Getting closer. Kind of… tied together. It’s cool. Like a story, don’t you think?”

“I do.” She grinned, because she loved the shyness, the cuteness to him. It was odd to be sixteen going on seventeen and still find herself giddy at the thought that she might be on her way to having a boyfriend, that their unofficial attempts at romance could be solidified any day now - and her with magic powers to boot.

Connie tugged off the last of the wires and suggested brightly, “Why don’t I stick around for the day, Steven? We can just hang out, see if any more weirdness happens. And if not it’ll just be a fun day together! Come on, I’ve got my day pack.”

She snagged her backpack from its spot beside the lawnchair and did her best to ignore Peridot ( _Please! Just a few tests! It’ll only take a few hours. It’s for science! You_ love _science!_ ). She didn’t have as much as she’d hoped. She had packed her bag for studying, like she always did nowadays, but she did have a couple of entertaining things.

She held out one of her music books, relieved that she was prepared for at least one of their favorite activities. “We could practice guitar together?”

He agreed eagerly as he flipped the book open, skimming song titles for one her already knew how to play, when his smile froze in place. His eyes rounded as he whispered, “Connie! You’re not gonna believe this!”

She leapt to her feet, looking nervously between the book and him. “What? Is something wrong?”

“Something’s right!” he said excitedly. “I can read this!”

And again the two teens did their best to ignore Peridot as she scrambled around their knees, bombarding them with questions. Of course, they had questions of their own. Steven hadn’t learned to read sheet music since the last time she had seen him, but the knowledge was there. He read it as effortlessly as she did, naming notes as he moved across the page (and singing them, as his perfect pitch self was often wont to do).

“There’s some kind of fusion still happening!” Peridot cried desperately. “If you’d let me hook up your brains I could-”

“ _No_ ,” they said simultaneously.

Pearl tugged Peridot by the wrist and crooned, “Why don’t you tell _me_ all about your findings? No need to worry yourself over meatbrains.”

While their slender savior distracted Peridot, they fell to their knees and dumped Connie’s textbooks to the floor dirt in an act Connie would later regret, scowling her afternoon away as she used a blowdryer to get the dust out. But for now, there was the thrill of exploration and discovery, and no time to worry about grime.

They went through her subjects one by one, finding Steven’s previous gaps and slips in knowledge far less patchy than before. History fell into place with broad sweeps, a general timeline for humanity filling them both with excited wonder. Science made more sense - the bits and pieces he’d learned deepening to something close to her understanding of the cohesive whole.

English came to him strangely. As she rattled off classic titles, he listed summaries with chunks missing, went into detail on parts of the books she herself had found particularly thrilling and vivid, though his recollection was still poorer than her own. Still, like a half-remembered song, he made it through most well enough.

He blew through math with ease. Peridot took eager notes and the teens giggled as they poured over Connie’s mathematics textbook from beginning to end, awed as Steven worked his way through equations just as easily and smoothly as Connie could. There didn’t seem to be a single gap there, and they ignored Peridot’s theorizing ( _As a race, gems have always been particularly good with numbers. The building blocks of the universe are-_ ) for the more practical fun of what his skills were.

And, as time passed, Connie realized she really did need to be getting back to her own studying. She leaned in to kiss his cheek, the newness still sparking a giddiness in her chest. “I’ll come by tomorrow, Steven.”

“Yeah,” he said, giving her a look all too adoring and sweet for her to take. “I’ll see you then.”


	3. Stuck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After an odd dream, Connie wakes up in Steven's bed with a couple new powers.

How funny it was to be married at seventeen, and to think nothing of it.

But that was the way of dreams, for reality to be accepted without question, no matter how abnormal. Her dream self had not spent years of her life lectured on the value of putting her love life on hold, on the importance of developing her own career above all else. There were no memories of being more enraptured by adventure than the idea of being in love for this Connie.

This Connie had blue steel wrapped around her ring finger. She admired how it looked in the speckled spotlight beneath a broad oak. Her head rolled up to the ancient thing, all broad green leaves and soft summer breeze. There was nothing to worry about here in the park.

Right. A park. She was in a park. And she was a very busy kind of person, of course, who longed to see her husband on this beautiful, warm, romantic evening. She was a married person now, and married people had their whole lives revolve around their partner, ached to see them when they were away. Wasn’t it the way that went?

Her husband handed her champagne, which was fine because that was what married people did on a romantic afternoon in the park. So what if she was seventeen? Where had he come from? It was nothing, nothing, because Steven was hers and she was his, and they smiled at each other as their glasses clinked together in a toast.

They each took a sip, and it was almost bizarre that it tasted like sparkling apple soda on her tongue instead of the sour taste she expected from wine-like things. Champagne was nothing like the white wine her father had let her try, was it? But that was gone, gone, and she drank her apple soda champagne with the man she married at seventeen.

“I missed you so much!” Steven laughed beside her, and his thumb fiddled with his own pink band. How cute it was that they matched. She longed to look closer at it, and then the longing passed. It was the ring she had bought him, and there was no need to look closer.

Steven continued, “I’m really happy for you, but it gets really lonely without you.”

Why was he happy for her? Because they were married? Because of the champagne? Thoughts came and slipped, and she was a wife flattered by the devotion of her husband as she flushed and looked away. “Lonely? Steven Universe? Come on. You could make friends with a hungry lion.”

He grinned, ever the charmer. “I _have_ made friends with a hungry lion.”

She rolled her eyes with a laugh, then admitted, “I get lonely without you too. I mean, I have a lot of friends now.” A stutter, a reset, like it had never happened and there was no need to dwell on it. “I’m popular in school.” No. “Loads of people like me and I-”

Things shuddered and stilled into pleasantness. None of that had happened at all, no false starts, no silliness. Serenity whispered through the branches overhead as she settled into fantasy. Yes, here’s what it was: “My job is stressful, but I have a lot of great people working with me, and they’re really good friends, but it’s not the same as being with my _best_ friend.”

Steven frowned as he cocked his head. “Is this too much love?” No, that wasn’t what he had said. How silly of her to think it at all. “Is the romance kinda overwhelming?” No, he wouldn’t have said that either. Of course not. “Affection?” 

He wasn’t frowning at all, that’s what it was. She couldn’t see his face as he looked down at the champagne in his hand, and his voice was as soft and sweet as the drink. “I’m worried sometimes that I want more than you do. I think I love romance too much.”

They were married in the sunshine and everything was heaven. She leaned forward, but something stopped her from reaching out. He wasn’t here. That was the problem. She wasn’t there. Her fingers pressed against the invisible wall between them, searching for a seam.

“Romantic stuff is always alright with you,” she said with a smile. Her fingertips found the edges of the world and slid it back, whisking away whatever kept them apart as she promised, “I love it when it’s you. It’s okay. Really, it’s alright.”

He bit his lip shyly. “Can I kiss you?”

How funny. How strange.

“We’re married,” she replied. “You don’t have to ask for a kiss.”

But he did, of course he did, because the champagne in her hand tasted like apples. His lips pressed against hers, the lips she had felt countless times easing away her bruises, finally against her own. Not that it was actually the first time, because they were married, and surely, surely she’d have kissed him before they were married.

He was warm, so very warm as she leaned against him and her drink was gone as her fingers curled into his shirt. Oh, but everything was slipping. Everything was intangible and ungraspable except for the heat of him which grew by the moment. She could feel the burning of him, warm and warm and warm, curled around her waist like an arm, around her body like a blanket, and the gem that scorched in his belly against her own just felt like home.

* * *

Two pairs of brown eyes met, the early morning sun falling across their faces that were far too close. Somehow, Connie was under Steven’s downy comforter, pressed to him, so that she could feel how the curves of her body were melting into the blockiness of his. She felt heat of a different sort crawling into her face and it was all she could do not to scream. 

As it was, she jerked back and rolled out of bed to Steven’s squeaking cry of, “Connie!”

Sturdy arms scooped her up before she hit the floor, and Connie caught a glimpse of alabaster as she was set on her feet. There was Pearl, looking worriedly down at her, and saying, “What in the world happened last night? I heard one of Lion’s portals this morning, and when I came to check on Steven I found _you_ coming through on your own.”

Connie’s hands came to her cheeks as the heat in them became unbearable. She took a step back from her, sliding her eyes from Steven. A portal? That wasn’t possible. She hadn’t _died_ at some point, had she? She insisted, her voice cracking, “I didn’t! I don’t remember!”

“You looked asleep,” Pearl explained calmly. “I’ve heard humans have been known to sleep walk, and it seems Connie has managed some kind of sleep portal.”

“That’s so cool,” Steven said, and Connie was relieved to meet his delighted eyes, the smile stretching across his face. Leave it to Steven to turn something new and weird into something contagiously fun.

“It’s dangerous!” Pearl argued, and Connie blinked as her mentor frowned down at her. So much for fun, then. The gem’s arms crossed in front of her, her voice tight and firm. “What if she created a portal to the middle of the ocean? Or space? No, this is far too dangerous for Connie to be portaling around. Come now.”

“Come where? Pearl, I just woke up. I’m in my PJs, I…” Pale fingers wrapped around her wrist, and Connie stared uncomprehending. Going where? She still felt a little disoriented, the dream clinging to the back of her mind. A park. Had there been a wall she pulled apart? And then there was that kiss.

That kiss that had happened right before she woke up pressed to Steven. Had they kissed in real life? Had she really kissed him in the dream? It hadn’t felt quite like a normal dream, not with the way it stuck to her, but Steven said dreamwalking felt so real, so lucid. So she couldn’t have possibly kissed him.

“I need a minute,” she said, frowning as her hand came up to her temple. She remembered the dream, relived it, and struggled to keep it from falling apart as the sun crept higher in the sky behind them.

“No,” Pearl said with a tug. It was a gentle tug, of course, but an insistent one. “What you need is to get off Steven’s gem before you hurt yourself. Or, at the very least, before you both wind up doing something inappropriate.”

Inappropriate. She had heard that before. Like anything between them could be wrong. Connie grit her teeth and pulled her wrist back to her chest. Her feet slid apart, braced and rooted as Pearl had taught her. “There’s nothing inappropriate about it! And I’m not getting off Steven’s gem unless he wants me off!”

“You’re not thinking things through!” 

Pearl tugged again, but, despite the firm grip around her wrist, Connie’s body stayed steady. Pearl pulled harder, a frown growing on her face as she dug her heels in, as she leaned back and tried to budge the fairly lightweight teen. But despite Pearl’s magical muscles and combat training, Connie found herself impossibly immovable.

She watched, growing more fascinated and amused as Pearl’s attempts became more full body, shoving and tackling, only to slip off. The sight of it set Steven into a giggle fit as he sat up in bed. “This just keeps getting cooler. Come on, Pearl, she doesn’t want to go. It’s okay.”

“We know _nothing_ about this!” Pearl insisted, brushing herself off as she got back to her feet. Connie raised an eyebrow, thinking that it was quite unbecoming to find one’s self wrestling with a stockstill teeanger and losing. “You didn’t have a choice in your dangerous powers, but Connie does!”

“And I’m _choosing_ to keep the powers!” Connie countered. She crossed her arms, and that motion was oddly slow, like pulling her body through molasses. She swallowed thickly as she looked down. That was more than a little distressing. It was a struggle for her to move too?

She tried to keep her cool as she kept talking, but as she took stock of her body, she found that her rooted feet were truly _rooted_. Her muscles could twitch, but she couldn’t move herself any more than Pearl could. Upsides and downsides. Her voice somehow came out steady, “I’m involved in gem stuff, danger doesn’t matter. I’m not getting off Steven’s gem when there’s consequences for that too.”

Pearl snapped, “So you’ll just bind yourself to Steven without considering the consequences? Who knows what other powers you’ll manifest, how dangerous…”

The gem’s voice faded into a ringing in her ears. _Bound_ to Steven. Connie wasn’t _bound_ to Steven. Sure they were closer than before and sure she would do anything for him and sure she wanted to spend her life with him but she had dreams and ambitions and she had spent her whole life under rule after rule after rule and she wasn’t _bound_ to anyone. Not anymore. Not ever again.

Was it suddenly hard to breathe?

“Pearl!” Steven shouted. “Look! She’s starting to freak out! You’re gonna make it worse!”

Her hands came over her mouth with a gasp. “I’m sorry, Connie! I panicked.”

“I can’t move!” she squeaked, twisting at her spot as the confession burst forward. Her legs were too heavy, impossibly heavy, and all her tugging wasn’t getting her anywhere. She gasped for air as anxiety rushed in, because she couldn’t move and she couldn’t really just be _stuck_.

Steven jumped out of bed and grabbed her shoulders. Again brown eyes met, but at least this wasn’t all mixed up with embarrassment and awkwardness, just comfort as he steadied her. “Okay, deep breaths.My powers run on emotion, but freaking out doesn’t turn them off. Panic is just, like, an amplifier? It makes everything more intense.”

She swallowed, nodding and steeling her resolve. She had faced all kinds of dangerous things. Sticky feet were not going to be the thing that did her in. “Right. Calming down. What next?”

“You want to figure out what you’re feeling,” Steven explained. “For me, it’s like… like a feeling is running in the background, even if I’m not totally feeling it. It’s why I can float even when I’m scared or anything. So, uh… look for something you’re feeling, but not really feeling.”

She grinned, her heartbeat slowing as she took the chance to tease. “Oh yeah. Easy.”

“Meditate,” he said with a laugh. He took a step back from her, though he stayed close, and set his hands in a circle. A slow, deep breath as he closed his eyes, and she noticed his gem glow brightly under his shirt. A moment later, she felt it as the memory of buzzing energy at her own navel. “Like Garnet taught us. Look inside, close your eyes if you need to.”

She followed him - her own circle centered at her hips. Her eyes slipped shut, room quiet as everyone hushed for her to focus - not that she needed that quiet. After years of practice, Connie found it easy to meditate even in a room filled with quiet chatter, though it was always trickier meditating as herself compared to being Stevonnie. There was no magic organization to her own mind that made things easy to find. Looking inward was far more physical.

But, today, things felt a little more organized. She couldn’t find the mental space that was so easy to fall into while fused, but her feelings almost felt like colors behind her eyes, easier to sort through and understand as she searched her mind and her body for something that should and shouldn’t be there. There were a lot of feelings turning and twisting, but they were hers and they were right. A rainbow played across her eyes and stretched back into her skull. And then there was one that was wrong. Some part of her chugging away, a feeling concentrated in her belly instead of her brain - refusal and annoyance. 

Her lips moved quietly as she guessed at the name, “I’m feeling stubborn?”

“Good!” Steven said cheerfully, and she fought the urge to open her eyes and see the pride she was sure would be bright on his face. She felt an answering smile spread on her own just from the thought of it. “When I do it, I just try to let that feeling go away. I say to myself, _I feel you, but I don’t need you right now, so I’m going to let you go_.”

She nodded. Stubbornness was an odd feeling, and one that wasn’t keen on slipping away. Connie tried her best to soothe it in her usual way, trying to push it down and back, but laced with magic it wouldn’t work right. It couldn’t be eased with just deep breaths. She followed Steven’s advice, mouthing the words as she thought them, _I feel you._ _Thank you for being here, but could you go?_ Something fluttered behind her navel, a buzzing warmth of her own, then vanished into nothing.

Connie’s legs moved, and they felt like rubber from all her earlier straining. She held her hands out to catch herself as they suddenly gave way. Thankfully, Steven and Pearl reached out at the same time, catching her as she stumbled forward, before she managed to right herself on shaky legs. Hopefully that wouldn’t happen every time she tried to become immovable in the future - it seemed awfully inconvenient.

“See? Easy as pie.” She laughed, smiling awkwardly at the gem beside her. “I’m safe and sound, Pearl. So you don’t have to worry about taking me off Steven’s gem, right?”

Pearl sighed, resting a hand on Connie’s head and ruffling the hair there fondly. But the earlier hysteria that Pearl was so prone to had faded away, leaving only a touch of annoyance and worry. “Safe enough, I suppose.”

“Listen, this is…” Steven grinned as he searched for the words, but she could see it all in his face. Concern had quickly been replaced with giddiness, enthusiasm, excitement. He looked like they were about to go exploring again. He looked like they _felt_ when they were Stevonnie, tackling a challenge together head on.

He settled for a laughing, “This is a _lot_.”

“I just discovered two new powers. It’s a big day,” she agreed with a nod.

“So why don’t we take a break?” he suggested brightly. “We’ll have breakfast, and make a plan for how to work on all this power stuff.”

Connie faltered over the idea. She had lost more time than she expected yesterday to figuring out her faux gem. It was supposed to be a quick detour - something she assumed would be sorted out with Steven having mastered a new power and her back to normal. If she wanted to skip her senior year and get into college early, she couldn’t slack off in her studies. She couldn’t really drop her books every time a problem with Steven came up - not if she wanted her own success.

But she also didn’t feel like she’d get anything done, not with getting stuck still leaving an ache in her legs and not with the dream still turning over in the back of her mind. Was it shared? How much was real? She hadn’t really kissed him, had she? And what had been that feeling, that wall? Questions itched at the back of her skull, and she tried to shake them off.

“A few hours of relaxing won’t hurt,” she said with a smile. “Gives us some time to process! I’m just gonna run to the bathroom real fast.”

She slipped past them, agreeing brightly to Steven’s call that he’d get to work on some pancakes. She took the stairs two at a time to get ahead of him, and slipped into the little bathroom while the feeling was still fresh on her mind. Fresh enough, at least. Her dream self hadn’t been too keen on focusing on the world giving way beneath her fingertips.

But awake Connie prided herself on curiosity, on asking follow-up questions, and took a deep breath. She imagined the wall that had been there in her dream, reached out for it, and found something in the air that was a bit off. Like a cooling candle, a firm bit of wax with watery wobble beneath. Her fingers skimmed along it, unable to push or swipe it away, and her teeth found her lower lip as she tried to understand why.

Magic was emotion. Things happened because they felt them, they believed them, they wanted them wholeheartedly. In her dream, she had felt Steven was away, though he was right in front of her, and she had wanted to see him. With magic, wanting was a tool - and she could use that to _push_.

Her fingers pressed, and the world gave way - just for a few seconds. The soft blue of a portal, and as half her body pushed through, a glimpse of the back of Steven’s head. It collapsed on itself in a heartbeat, shoving her back into the bathroom so that she fell, for a third time, and this time there was no one to catch her as she hit the floor.

Her fingers raised to her lips, a flush growing on her face. She _had_ really made the portal, and she’d made it just because she was so desperate to see him again. She’d portaled to Steven’s house just to sleep beside him.

Somehow, that was worse and better all at once.


	4. Yours and Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connie practices her powers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the wonderful NewLense and Echo4 for being amazing betas this chapter.

Growing up, Connie had always been envious and not envious of Steven’s powers. On one hand, being magical had always been a fantasy of hers. But on the other, Steven’s powers came from his emotions, his personality. The way he used his gem said something about him. His weapon was a shield because he longed to protect those around him. His happiness was overwhelming, bubbly, and lighter than air. His need to help others, stronger than anyone’s she had ever known, came through in the childish and charming way he kissed people better.

There was something more than a little terrifying about wearing one’s heart so thoroughly out in the open. She had wondered, both with delight and uncertain fear, of what powers she would have with a gem, and what it would tell the world about her.

So far, Connie had pulled a sword and had been so stubborn she couldn’t even budge herself. What was that then? She was defined by anger and stubbornness? A wrathful little thing, unbudging and violent? She wasn’t sure what that said about her exactly, but it didn’t feel especially good.

There were the portals, too, and what was there to say about that? She had made one directly to Steven’s house, and maybe that said something about her, too. Dependent. Clinging. Overly attached. She was trying not to think about that bit, instead focusing on a plan over breakfast.

And then, once the food was done and they were outside, she instead tried to focus on what an exciting day they had planned practicing powers. The sun was bright overhead, not burning yet in the earlier morning. The beach waves were soft, foaming nicely at the shore. It was a perfect day, and whatever her powers said about her could be washed away by waves over sand.

“I guess we should start with immovable stuff,” Connie said, and let her feet spread apart into a solid combat stance. “That’s what I need practice with. If I get frozen on my way to class I don’t think they’re going to take sudden magic powers as an excuse.”

“Your teachers are so mean!” he laughed, with all the sweetness and innocence of someone who had never endured the public school system. Steven put his hands in his pockets as he hummed to himself. 

Steven had always been more interested in the flare and flash of powers. When he had mastered his own, he had mostly showed off the stuff he found the most exciting, shields and bubble fists. Despite the fact that she was much more fascinated with healing and dreamwalking, he struggled to find them as interesting or exciting as a sparkling bit of hardlight on his arm. But he conceded for her, “Okay, stuck stuff first and then we can practice you pulling the sword, and then maybe we can do some portal practice.”

Portal practice. No, that was the thing she wanted to think about least of all. She felt awkwardness creep up her spine as she giggled and fumbled for an excuse, “Oh, gees. We can do the portal stuff another time. You don’t need to waste your whole day with me.”

“No day is wasted as long as it’s with you. ”

“Shut up,” she mumbled. She hoped her cheeks weren’t hot enough for him to see. She hoped he couldn’t tell that the smile that crept over her face was huge and unstoppable and silly from every little flirt.

“Oh, yeah. I’ve gotta be careful,” he teased, tapping her nose. “Can’t say anything that’ll make you feel stubborn or you’ll get stuck here all day.”

“I think we’re ready to start testing,” she said with a grin. She bent her knees slightly, braced as if his playful words were going to knock her over. “Go ahead, Steven. Push my buttons.”

There was Steven’s swagger, that playful confidence he fell into as he leaned forward, pointing with a giggle at her face. “It’s not hard. You have a lot of buttons. I can just say that Archimicarus becoming human at the end was a really satisfying way to end his character arc.”

Connie wrinkled her nose. “You’re going to make me stubborn with my favorite childhood book series?”

“What I like about Archie turning human is that he started off the series thinking that the power of love can do anything,” Steven said. He circled her with slow, lazy steps as if she hadn’t spoken at all. There was a smugness to his voice, an overconfidence that she was grateful he had mostly grown out of. He rolled his shoulders and glanced at her sideways. “A lot of people say that love isn’t enough, but his ending proves he was right all along. Love is all that really matters.”

“Which is why it was _bad_!” Playful arguments with Steven were always fun, and she found herself rising to meet the challenge. She immediately reached for old reliable debates. “He doesn’t grow from that! He’s rewarded for never questioning his belief that love is always the ans-”

She was cut off as Steven stopped in front of her. His hand came out, two fingers pointed forward. She stared down as he pushed on her chest, just below her neck. The pressure of his fingers sunk through her shirt and stopped abruptly at her body - not the slightest wobble to be found. She blinked in surprise, but with the reminder, she could feel the buzzing behind her navel.

With a grin, Steven raised his shirt to reveal the glowing gem beneath. “It gets all tingly when you use it.”

She laughed, hands coming to her face. Well, it really was that easy then. As embarrassment subsided, she said, “And I guess you can’t move me either, even though it’s your magic.”

Steven frowned a little, pushing his hands into his pockets. “I don’t know if we should say it like that.”

“Like what?”

“I know it all comes from my gem, but if we’re sharing it,” he said, and his face lit up a little with tenderness. “It’s _our_ magic, and when you use it, it’s _your_ magic.”

Semantics. _Inaccurate_ semantics, which was even worse. She crossed her arms, rolled her eyes, and corrected, “If there’s a couple where one person works and the other person stays home and the first person takes care of the second, whose money is it?”

“It’s both of their money.”

Connie was surprised at the lack of hesitation, the open confusion on his face at the concept. Her hands fell to her sides as she leaned forward a little, cocking her head. “But _only_ the first person earned it.”

“For them both,” he countered, a confused little smile on his face. “I mean, it’s all my dad’s money, but it’s really our money because he shared it with me. I mean, that’s what that choice is, right? You want to share something so you share it. It’s that easy.”

“I guess,” she agreed, though uncertainty ate at her. Her parents hadn’t done it that way, she was fairly sure. Some of the money was pooled together, but it was mostly for the house and raising her. Separate accounts that came together only when necessary, and she wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about the idea of sharing everything.

But there was no point in arguing that now. She held out her hand. “Okay. _My_ magic. See if you can pull me out of my stance.”

Steven’s big, strong hand wrapped around her smaller one and pulled. Normally, such a predicament would send her stumbling forward into his arms, but today she felt only the smallest bit of pressure. Her lips quirked up at the realization - it seemed even Steven couldn’t budge her if she didn’t want him to.

His feet dug into the sand as he struggled to move her an inch. He raked lines into the sand as he twisted every which way, groaning with exertion as he tried to make her move. Meanwhile, she felt his hand around her wrist as a firm hold, felt the tug as nothing important at all, even as his feet dug deeper and deeper and his gem glowed beneath his shirt.

Finally, he dropped her hand and fell into the sand with an exhausted grunt. “I guess you win. It _was_ a bad ending for his character and I can’t change your mind.”

Connie giggled and leaned forward as best she could to help her defeated opponent up out of the sand as she quipped, “Truly an epic battle of wits. Let me release this… stuckness? And then we can try the sword again.”

Deep breaths, slow and steady. She closed her eyes to make it easier to focus inward, and she found the magic quicker this time. There it was, stubbornness continuing long past the point of usefulness. There was no need to mouth the words this time. She merely thought them and tried to remember the feeling behind them. _Thank you, but I don’t need you anymore_.

When she released this time, the lack of struggling meant there was no tiredness in her limbs, and she did a twirl in the sand and an elaborate bow to show it off. “My liege, I appear to be quite in order.”

“Okay!” Steven laughed and grabbed her hands. This time when he tugged she stumbled into him. Giddy, she barely stopped herself before her chest brushed against his.

His eyes were dancing, adoring, and sweet as he said, “You’re amazing. Do you know what makes your weapon come out too? When I was trying to figure out my shield with the gems it was… kind of a disaster.”

“I remember.” She snorted at the many, many texts and calls she had gone through with Steven back when they first met, miserable sadness at how he’d never be a real Crystal Gem if he couldn’t manage his powers.

Connie, however, had years of practice under her belt. “But I summoned your shield with you a bunch of times as Stevonnie, I remember what that feels like.”

She stepped back from him and grabbed at the feeling. It still burned bright in her mind, impossible to forget when she knew the place of such things from Stevonnie. She imagined the enemies of their past, large and looming and around every corner regardless of whether her sword was in hand.

She imagined someone coming for them on the beach, _this_ beach, where they had fought so many times before. It was rare she was unprepared, but it was possible, always possible. Not anymore. The sword appeared shimmering and shining to her palm. No, she would never find herself unarmed again. 

Connie leveled the blade at him with years of practice behind the easy motion. “En guarde, monsieur Universe.”

His shield sprung just as easily to his own arm, without the slightest flicker in her own weapon. They looked back and forth between the two for a moment, then timidly let the two meet. There was a quiet, metallic tink as the two came together, but nothing seemed to change in the slightest. Sword and shield, separate and functional as ever.

Giddily, they chased each other up and down the shore like they had when they were small. Their form reverted too, an awful disaster of mock fighting that would have gotten them both killed in combat, but it was so exciting to make sword and shield clang as they played in the sun. 

Heat burned down on them as they played. Tiredness was starting to set into her limbs, a little bit of winding as far too much time passed, but it was too exhilarating to have a weapon all her own to stop. They raced after their weapons as they disarmed one another, summoning new ones just to show off.

And, when they finally took a break to go get a drink, they heard Connie’s alarm ringing on the counter. She spoke a word that her mother would be very upset to hear as she rushed to check the time. Away went her sword, replaced with a frustrated hand in her hair. Her thumb swiped the message away, but the problem remained as she sunk heavily into her chair at the table.

“You alright?” Steven asked gently.

“I missed the bus for tennis practice.” She let her sweaty forehead drop to the table as misery started to set in. “Mom’s gonna kill me.”

“Can you get your money back?” He hesitated, then said, “I mean, I said earlier that all my dad’s money is mine. If she’d really be that mad about it I wouldn’t mind covering it for you.”

“It’s not about the money. We have a membership to a tennis club. But I told her I didn’t need a trainer this summer and I’d keep in shape on my own, but if I’m not following the schedule…” She shook her head and trailed off into a groan.

She was planning on going to college early. She was trying to prove that she could handle everything and then some. So what if “and then some” now included superpowers, and possibly some relationship stuff? 

Doubt crawled up her spine at the idea that maybe, with magic and Steven, she might have been slightly over her head.

Push that thought away. She looked up at him with a sleepy smile. “Sorry, it’s not a big deal. I’m just frustrated I made the mistake.”

“Magic got you into it. Maybe magic can get you out!” Steven suggested cheerfully. His hand rubbed fondly between her shoulder blades, at the warmth of his touch made her perk up a bit. “You have your own portals, and if you can’t make it work, maybe Lion will help you out.”

She grinned. “Do you think he could give me a lesson on portals?”

“Hmm… maybe, but I wouldn’t trust him. He’s always _lyin_.” He waited, expecting her to laugh at his joke. She did her very best to hold back mirth at the awful pun, but he got a snort out of her like always. Clearly proud of himself, he continued, “But I don’t have anything like portals. I don’t know how they work.”

There was always the chance that the portals had nothing to do with Steven, and it had just been bad luck before. She hadn’t thought to try anywhere else, had she? Lion wasn’t stuck to Steven and neither was Lars. Her portals looked like theirs, seemed to work like theirs, so surely there was no good reason to think she was stuck to Steven.

Except, well, all the ways she was stuck to Steven.

Connie bit her lip. “I _might_ remember how. I could try it again.”

Steven cheered. “Yeah! What’s the worst that could happen?”

She propped her cheek up on one hand, the other gesturing with a shrug. “I could open a portal to somewhere that’d pretty instantly kill me, like an underground magma stream or the endless void of space.”

‘We’re together.” Steven took her hand and put a little bubble around them, getting yet another smile out of her. He never seemed to fail at that. “I’ll come through with you and nothing can hurt us. Give it your best shot.”

His hand was so nice in hers. Since that evening years ago under the stars on the beach, she’d found comfort in it. Connie had held it countless times and every finger felt like home as they softly weaved together. 

She could feel his calluses, each one more familiar than the rough patches on her own hands. She felt all the softness in his palm, because it was only the tips of his fingers that got rough - and even that was just from instruments, not fighting.

“We got this,” she agreed.

Steven was at her side, so it was impossible for her to want him to be any closer. At least, she prayed that was the case. If she made a portal and it just led back to him, she would be embarrassingly aware of just how pathetically tied to him she was.

There was no need to focus on that. Instead, she directed her attention to what she needed. Her tennis bag would be by the front door from the night before, prepped and ready for her when she got up and headed out. She pictured it there, right where it always was, and focused hard on just how badly she needed it.

Her hand reached forward, pushing, and the real world broke apart from her gentle probing and sharp wanting. A large blue portal swirled in front of them, and they squeezed each other’s fingers at the same moment as they stepped through together.

They were in her living room, facing the tennis bag she had left there the night before, with no black holes or lava or magma or deadly deep sea. She dropped his hand to throw up her own and woop with joy.

Steven wrapped her up in a hug and twirled her around. She really should have been focused on getting to tennis practice. Instead, she breathed in his scent of flowers, a whole bouquet from all the silly pampering he did to himself. It was so nice to savor it, to hide her face in the crook of his neck as he was endlessly happy for her. She loved it and his happiness was all she needed.

Except, not actually. Connie actually had tennis practice scheduled very, very soon, and silly butterflies in her stomach could wait for a time when she didn’t have things to do. She wiggled out of his grip and grabbed her bag and rushed to change, and then she was back with him, insisting, “With the portals, I can drop you off at home before I head to practice.

“No way!” he said eagerly. “Come on, I don’t have anything to do. Let me come to tennis practice and make sure you don’t accidentally pull a sword on someone.”

She tsked her tongue in a tease. “Mr. Universe, some people are going to get the idea that you’re a little over-attached.”

“Maybe.” Steven laughed, a touch of pink in his cheeks as he held her hand in his own. “Is that so bad?”


	5. Bubbles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steven and Connie go play tennis, and try out bubbling.

Connie did her absolute best to assure Steven that tennis was very, very boring. The ball moved back and forth on the court. Sometimes, points were given. It was not a thrilling sport to watch compared to something like basketball or football, where there were plays and dramatic scrambling of action.

This was not a thrilling part of her life. She would like to balance the exciting parts of her life with the boring parts, of course. For every sword practice there was tennis practice, balancing out thrill and danger with the painfully dull thwack of a ball across the court.

Steven should have that same privilege, she supposed, and him being more involved in her life could only help that. There really shouldn’t have been anything troubling over the idea that Steven wanted to watch her play tennis.

But there was something terrifying and guilt-inducing over the idea. He shouldn’t have had to give up his own schedule, clear his day to help her with random magic, and watch her smack some balls around. The world was saved. There was no need to waste his time on her.

Of course, she had no idea how to say no to him, not in the slightest, so he came with her to the bright and sunny tennis court. Everything was earth tone yellow buildings, the crisp cleanness of privileged wealth, and people in tennis outfits far cuter than their own.

Connie tried to explain scoring as they walked, rambling a little. “You’re basically trying to hit the ball so that the other person misses after it lands inside the lines. You’re trying to get to forty-five points, but it’s not really forty points because it’s -”

“You count in fifteens,” he finished as they strolled onto the court. “I think you told me all this stuff.”

He had unwrapped a racket earlier, as excited as if he had gotten a gift, and now he braced his legs and swung it hard. She let her eyes roam up and down, genuinely surprised at how tight and clean his form was for someone who had never held a racket before. Maybe there was more overlap in combat stances and tennis than she thought.

Connie let out a very undignified snort at the idea. “No way. You must have watched it on TV or something.”

“Wow. You sound really confident.” He jumped up, spiking an imaginary ball in a much less form-perfect move.

“Tennis is the most boring thing I do, Steven. I don’t talk about it.” She made a face as she tugged out the neon green balls, slid out a racket of her own (no reason not to have a backup at all times, after all). Maybe when they were kids? No, even then she had thought tennis was too boring to talk about. Connie shook her head. “I try not to even think about it.”

He laughed. “Then why do you even play?”

“Scholarships. I need a sport and I started tennis pretty young so I’m good at it.”

She slowly limbered up her muscles, gentle stretches from head to toe. She wasn’t sure how much of a difference it made, but she was always better safe than sorry. She tried not to pay attention to the fact that glances at Steven had his eyes riveted to her in a way that felt something other than friendly, but she flicked her eyes down and tried to ignore it, chalk it up to seeing things.

“That’s kind of sad,” he murmured. “I wish you liked it.”

She grinned as she bounced back up. Time to get rid of any tension hanging in the air. Connie gave his hair a playful tug, making him stumble forward a step as she teased, “Oh, come on. You can’t say it’s sad. Tennis practice is nothing compared to a big magical destiny.”

“Magic, huh?” Steven looked down at the racket in his hands. A little spin in his confident fingers and it landed back in his palm with a soft thwack sound. A grin slowly spread over his face as he considered, “Hey, Connie. Speaking of magic, you know how I got some math and sheet music skills from you?”

She raised an eyebrow. “You don’t think…”

“I think I know how to play tennis,” he said. He bounced on his feet, lighter than normal. Steven wasn’t usually very fast, very nimble, but he seemed to be doing his best to switch to it for a more tennis kind of play. His eyes had that wonderfully eager and playful spark. “I want to try. I want to kick your butt in tennis.”

She sighed as she looked at him. For all her skill, Steven was still more muscular than her, even if they put magic aside. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he was faster in an even foot race, even though she’d always been more nimble. Uncertainly, she said, “You know, tennis is a sport almost entirely about upper body strength. If there are any sports where AFAB people are at a huge disadvantage, it’s tennis.”

He swung the racket. “Yeah. Like I said, I want to kick your butt in tennis.”

She burst into giggles. Right.  _ Steven _ . As competitive as tennis was, as driven as she had always been with it, it was never going to be anything serious with him. And despite how bored she was of the sport, she couldn’t help but feel a spark of fun at the idea of playing against him without the stress of competition.

“Okay!” she agreed. “It’ll be good practice. Let’s try.”

They took to the court, and Connie was definitely prepared for a thorough butt-kicking from her much more physically enhanced friend. But despite the fact that Steven knew all the rules as thoroughly as she did, and despite his wonderful grip on the racket and stance, he didn’t seem to have much skill beyond that.

That leveled the playing field at least a little, which was a relief, considering his advantage. How was she actually supposed to take on someone so big? He was her height now, though his growth had them both convinced that it wouldn’t be the case for long. But even with that in mind, if he never grew again, he was nearly twice her size, and quite a lot of that was muscle.

It was hard not to notice the muscle nowadays. When he was young there was so much softness to him, his roundness overriding everything else. But older and taller, he’d stretched more into boxiness. He was soft still, of course. She couldn’t imagine Steven without a belly or a thickness to his arms and thighs, but it was impossible not to notice the strength beneath it. Or, at least, it was impossible for her not to notice.

Steven hit harder than her, and when he managed to get a solid hit, she didn’t stand a chance of returning it. Thankfully, Steven lacked her skill, so his hits would put a terrible spin on the ball. More often than not it was sent flying outside the lines. He struggled to keep up a volley, to get in position, so her butt was mercifully unkicked by the end of the hour.

Still, he had been a harder opponent than she expected. Unskilled meant unpredictable, and she had spent far too much time zooming around the entire square. By the end, she was exhausted, with her stomach gnawing at her from an insufficient breakfast for such a long day. 

“Want to grab something to eat?” she asked brightly, noticing him panting just as hard as she was. “The food here is pretty good. Nice salads, black bean burgers, really tasty garlic parmesan fries.”

“Ooh, fancy.” He giggled.

“I mean, it’s a tennis club.” She smirked. “Doesn’t get much bougier than this.”

He followed her to the little stand. It was a simple rectangle, a big hole cut in it as an open-air window as a bored teen their age drooped over the register and sipped at a massive canteen. As the sun beat down on their overheated shoulders, Connie decided the burning was what made her decide to go with the large lemonade instead of water or a zero-calorie sports drink.

It definitely wasn’t Steven’s playful nudge and flirty wink when she tried to order water at first. It was definitely nothing to do with the butterflies in her stomach as Steven said, sweet and encouraging, “Your mom isn’t here. Come on, you know you want the good stuff.”

Whatever it was, his smile or the sun, she wound up regretting her choice. She sucked down the lemonade the second it was in her hands, and all the liquid sugar churned in her belly. She was left over-full and uncomfortable, and her burger sat half-finished on her plate. She poked at it with a french fry. “You win. I am defeated.”

Steven sucked ketchup off his finger, his burger long since finished. He even had the nerve to go for her fries once he had wiped out his own, picking out a few to finish off the ketchup left in his cup. “I’m glad someone kicked your butt today. I was starting to think you were undefeatable.”

“I have a bunch of bronze medals in a box somewhere if that’s what you want to see,” she said. Her face was propped up on her hand, soldiers slumped with the food coma coming around the corner.

“Nah. I like all your blue ribbons,” he said, all tenderness to make up from his earlier tease. “Hey, I have an idea. Every gem can bubble, right? It’s basic. I bet you can do it too.”

They were alone here. The tennis club had a big lawn, as fancy places were wont to do, and they were laying in grass as they picked at throwaway paper containers for their meal. No one would be coming by to interrupt their magic practice, so she nodded.

“I think I’ve got some old tennis balls around here somewhere.” She dragged her tennis bag close, ripping open the zipper to find the ragged old things in question, and internally scolded herself for not throwing out the wastes of space to begin with.

“No, not that. It’s gonna be hard to bubble something you think is garbage.” Steven laughed as he scooted closer, and pointed down to the only thing that had truly bested her for the day. “You don’t want to waste your burger, right?”

She shrugged. “It’d be nice if I didn’t have to throw it away, but it’s always soggy and gross by the time it gets home.”

“Not if you bubbled it!” he said eagerly. His hand reached out, and her navel buzzed as he bubbled and unbubbled the food a few times while he explained, “When you bubble it freezes. Like, in time. Your food doesn’t get any colder or older and it’ll taste just as good later as it does now. It stays safe.”

She looked down at her burger with a knot starting to form in her stomach - and not just from all the sugar. “Well, that’s terrifying.”

“What?”

“It’s frozen in time. All trapped.” She shivered. She had too many memories of her own times in shield bubbles, putting the two powers together into one strange place. It was hard not to imagine herself frozen in time, disoriented as she was unfrozen and thrown into a world she didn’t know. “I mean, I guess it makes sense. I just never really thought about what being in a containment bubble would be like. I thought of it like one of your shield bubbles.”

“You can’t bubble stuff that’s alive and you can’t bubble gems when they have their bodies on.” He laughed at the idea and nudged her. “I can see why that’d be so creepy! Don’t worry about it. Containment bubbles are just for your stuff. It’s all about keeping it safe.”

“Right. Safe,” she agreed. Connie’s head churned with possibilities, with worries and anxieties, and despite her best efforts to bite her tongue, they came tumbling out, “Just. You know. What if I bubble it and send it off and we can’t find it? And then it’s just trapped all alone forever? I can’t just lock it up and leave it behind.”

“Bubbles go home,” he said softly. “Wherever it goes, you’ll find it really, really fast. Here.”

Steven guided her to sit up, and then he was behind her. The chest she had noticed the breadth of earlier was hard and hot against her back, making her heart flutter in her chest. His palms slipped from behind, starting at her elbows and creeping downwards towards her hands.

How weird that he was… sliding. He was so soft, so slow. Wouldn’t it have made more sense to just take her hands? She swallowed, her throat a little tight. When his voice came in her ear, it sent tingles up her scalp, down her spine, and she tried not to focus so intently on the feeling of him against her.

His voice was so delicate in her ear, an odd bit of nervousness considering intimacy and touch had never been something they shied away from before. “Um, like this. You know how we feel safe together like this?”

“Yeah,” she whispered over the pounding of her heart. “Safe.”

“So, just take that feeling of being safe and use it on the burger.”

She laughed and hoped it didn’t sound as hysterical to him as it did to her. “I don’t think I can feel like this about a burger, Steven.”

“Just try.”

And she did. She really did. Connie tried her best to focus on the safety that could be found in Steven’s arms. It should have been easy. How many countless times had she found herself here, or found him in her own arms? She could even recall the weight of his head in her lap, the feeling of a face-to-face hug, the gentle pressure of lips on her cheek. It was always safe and secure, always fine.

But before she hadn’t been stitched to his gem, her soul tied to his. And she wasn’t trying to capture safety before, to lock it up, to push that feeling onto something else. What even was safety? Just trapping something? Locking it up so no one else could have it, for good or for bad? How was it safe to keep something on hold, when it would be so easy to leave it behind?

Connie grabbed for safety and couldn’t find it. No pink light from her fingers, nothing shielding the rest of her lunch on the table. She dropped her hands, crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t think I can. It’s not one of my powers.”

“Maybe you’ll get it another time,” he said and hugged her tight. “At least we got to cuddle for a while, right?”

Despite all her worries, that still got a smile out of her.

Despite the smile, she still wound up with nightmares.

* * *

Connie hated being barefoot when she wasn’t Stevonnie. There was something she hated about the soles of her feet unshielded on the ground. It wasn’t torturous, just unpleasant. She could never find it in her to enjoy the feel of prickly grass between her toes, the scratch of sand against her heels. Maybe that was why she was staring down at her feet, at the shiny, glittering tile beneath them. Cold. Very, very cold.

Everything was as still and slick as glass.

She took a step forward, tried to take a step. And then, as it had always been, she was tangled in a mess of string. Everything was glittering pink, some threads as thin as the tip of a pencil, some cords as thick as her thumb. Everywhere, everywhere it tangled around her. It wrapped her arms, her torso, her legs. It weaved between her fingers and toes like snakes, like worms, and horror brewed in her belly, bile scorching up her throat.

That just drew attention to the cord that coiled around her neck.

She gasped, tried to breathe as panic set in. There was a hand then, warm like a cup of tea and glowing pink, resting on top of hers. The strings on her coiled up around him, slithering like eager pets so they were bound up together, so she could hardly tell whether they had come from him or her to begin with.

Her eyes followed that hand, the arm, up to the cool face of Steven’s pink self looking into her own. There might have been the slightest bit of curiosity there. It was too hard to tell with his expression as flat as it was.

“You’re panicking.” There was no humanity in his voice, but maybe some of Steven’s warmth. Concern. Or maybe, maybe, it was all that chilling curiosity and complete lack of understanding “Why?”

“I’m stuck,” she choked, and looked back down at her own tangled up body. Were they constricting? Was that why it was so hard to breathe? The world was tilting sideways. She tried to move and hated the feel of the frictionless tile beneath her, blue and endless.

“You’re not.” He slid his fingers along a cord and the world settled into place. A feeling of safety dripped into her mind like a sedative, urging her to relax, to stop the struggling.

The Steven’s hand moved closer and closer to her chest. She leaned away from it, teeth grit, but there was never contact. Time flicked forward, skipping the moment where he grabbed, so there was only the moment after - the moment where a heart of tangled pink strings rested in his upturned palm.

She could somehow feel it in his hand. It pumped, a wild beat that matched the roaring in her head. Strings poured from it, like pink blood dripping down to the floor, as he held it between them for her to inspect. It hovered in front of her nose, and she was almost shocked not to smell copper. She smelled nothing at all.

Her throat ached, too hard to speak, but her lips formed the words, “My heart.”

“Our heart,” he corrected. His thumb smoothed over the surface and there was a moment of sleepy contentment, of quiet nights together. She remembered slumber parties. She remembered watching the snowfall. His voice, for a moment, finally sounded human. “My heart.”

She said, her voice small and distant, “Isn’t it mine?”

He stared for a moment. 

For an eternity.

The world shuddered and twisted and everything was too real and not real at all as her dream quaked under her own indecision.

He twisted it.

He pushed it to her.

“Then you have to cut it free.”

“I don’t have a knife,” she whispered.

You have teeth.

Did he say it? Did she think it? It didn’t matter.

Connie reached out to take it from his hand. Her beating heart. It slammed against her fingers, wiggling for escape against her palms. Strings slipped through her fingers down to the floor and beat with life to remind her that this was a killing thing.

The strings would give way, she knew, she knew, to the dull sharpness of her teeth. The cord in her mouth tasted of skin and sweat, and she felt the pulse against her teeth.

More pink, more hands, but a mirror of her own slender fingers gripping the heart, pulling it away. How strange it was to see her own face looking back at her, emotionless and cold.

“This is was we wanted,” she said, her voice firm, knowledgeable, instructive. Was that what she sounded like? How annoying. She hated it.

It burst from her without a filter, “I hate you.”

Her own face twisted, icy anger, but she cradled the heart in her hands so gently, so carefully, like it was the most precious thing in the world. “This is what we wanted,” her clone said again, eyes dark pink and stormy. “And you are the  _ greediest _ person in the world.”

Connie was shoved on her chest, just below her neck, her own fingers shoved against her breastbone. Her bare feet slid along cold, too smooth tile, and as she fell her mind raced.

She wasn’t safe. There was nothing safe here at all.

Her hand reached toward the floor as she fell, and the tile wasn’t smooth, wasn’t glass against her fingertips.

It was wax, with liquid space beneath.

She pushed through it to someplace safe.


	6. Split

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connie thinks about her dream, and Steven goes to space.

Somehow, yet again, Connie awoke in the bed of Steven Universe.

This time, there was no scolding Pearl or jolting awake. She woke up as if it was a perfectly normal morning, as if a perfectly normal morning could be waking up in the bed of her best friend, who hovered in the awkward place between platonic and romantic.

Her eyes blinked open to a broad back covered in yellow fabric. His curly hair tickled her nose as she cuddled him from behind. She was warm, almost too hot in the slowly heating room. The sun was much brighter with his big glass door, and his bed was so much bigger than hers, and she could only pray that her parents weren’t checking in on her before they went to work.

She tried not to panic as she pushed herself upright in bed, trying not to disturb him. Because maybe there was a chance she could get out of this place without waking him up, so he would never find out that she had, once again, portaled in her sleep just to be by his side.

But Steven woke beside her the second she pulled away. Slowly, he rolled over to face her. The back of his fingers rubbed his eyes before he blinked up at her blearily. Her stomach did some baffling tightening in response to that, to being the very first thing he saw in the morning.

She assumed it was nerves and braced for something awkward to happen. He simply smiled. If she was bolder, she might have called his expression lovesick.

She was not so bold.

“You’re here,” he said. “I dreamed about you.”

Her heart clenched in her chest, a touch of panic at the thought of her own dream. Had he been the pink Steven? Had he been watching her from the sidelines? If he was, she could only hope that he didn’t remember it well enough to hear the things she had said, or feel the macabre horror of pulsing strings. Connie’s voice came out in a croak, “Was I tied up in pink?”

Steven shook his head with a little laugh. “No. I didn’t have anything cool. I was just dreaming about us hanging out. I don’t really remember all the details because not a lot happened. But we  _ did  _ hug a lot.”

“Okay. So you didn’t dreamwalk,” she sighed with relief, before another thought struck her.

She supposed that, well,  _ Steven _ might not have dreamwalked. Still, she knew all too well that Steven contained multitudes, strange powers that did strange things, and it had only gotten more bizarre now that she had been added to his gem. Two of her fingers timidly reached out to touch his. “Um, Steven, could  _ half _ of you dreamwalk?”

He thought about that. Unlike the gems, Steven never thought of any idea as too ridiculous to consider. He crossed his arms as he pondered, really thinking it out. His eyes closed for a moment in brief meditation and internal check-ins, until he shook his head. “I guess anything’s possible, but I couldn’t do it without knowing I did it. If you think my gem part went without me, it didn’t happen.”

“You’re so sure,” she said, trying not to sound skeptical.

From the sound of his laugh, she didn’t manage to hide it well. “Yeah, because I’m  _ sure _ Connie. I’m not really a fusion. I mean, fusion holds me together, but I’m not like Garnet. If you split me up, I’m like the gem shards. It’s hard to even  _ think _ . Pieces of my brain are missing.”

She sighed, letting herself flop back next to him. “And you remember being both halves, so you would definitely, definitely remember if some part of you broke off and went on an adventure.”

“Just like you remember using your left hand and your right hand. I mean, except the fact that your hands don’t have parts of your brain in ‘em.” He grinned, slipping onto his elbow and propping up his head. “If you dreamed about a pink version of me showing up, it was your dream, not me.”

Connie groaned and covered her face with her hands. Steven hadn’t dreamwalked - he was absolutely sure of it. Her own brain had summoned up weird monsters, and with what she had told him -  _ tied up in pink  _ \- she hadn’t the foggiest of what he could possibly think of her now. Probably nothing good.

“Great. I’m having stress dreams now,” she said, and her voice came out as a horrible whine. “I usually don’t even remember my dreams. Why is this happening?”

“Hey, it’s okay. I mean, maybe that’s magic too. I’ve always had really, really vivid dreams, and I always remember them. Do you want to talk about it?” His voice was all sweet again. He was almost unbearably gentle with her lately. She didn’t know how to respond.

The confusion only worsened when he sat up and set a hand on her knee. He was touching her knee, and she was laying down in bed, and he was being so nice and sweet and she should not have been thinking the things she  _ was _ thinking about how big and strong his hand was as he murmured, “Sometimes talking about a bad-”

“Yo, Ste-man. I have got everything packed!” Amethyst said, bursting into his room with all the subtlety and finesse of a steamroller. Steven stiffened, the look on his face pure frustration as the purple gem continued, “Oh, Hey! Connie’s here. Hey girl! Are you coming with us?”

Connie bit back a laugh as her eyes flicked between the painful face of Steven Universe and the ray of enthusiasm and delight that was Amethyst. She pushed herself sitting as she said, “Uh, no. Just some magic shenanigans. I forgot you guys were leaving today.”

“Yup! A week on sunny 846A.” Amethyst hopped up beside Steven on the bed, either blissfully unaware of the intimate situation she had interrupted, or ruining it for her own amusement. “I can’t wait to catch some rays. What about you, dude?”

“I can’t wait to get a door,” he said flatly, and Connie cracked into a laugh. His hand fell onto Amethyst’s shoulder, and he had his best diplomat voice on as he said, “I’m kind of in the middle of something. Could you give me a minute?”

Her hand fell with a slap onto his shoulder, pulling him close with a mock apology in her voice, “Dude, if I knew you were smooching your girlfriend I wouldn’t have bugged you.  _ So _ sorry.” She held up her hands as she hopped off the bed, strolling through the doorway. “We’re leaving in an hour. Do what you need to!”

“I’m so sorry,” Steven said, and his comforting warmth left her leg so he could cover his face. Despite that, she could still see the adorable red creeping up to his ears, and held back the urge to give one a playful tug. “Seriously. The second we get back I’m asking Bismuth to make me a door. Or a new house.”

Connie said, “If this were my house the door would have to be open anyway. And I’m pretty sure my dad would freak out if he saw us on my bed together in the morning.”

He grinned. “Your parents are so weird.”

“Toxic heteronormativity,” she lamented dramatically, the back of her hand pressed to her forehead to really sell the show. “Such a  _ shame _ . But, seriously, it’s fine. Maybe the break will be worth it. With you a few lightyears away, maybe I’ll stop teleporting into your bed.”

Steven’s eyes widened. “You’re teleporting! What if you teleport into space trying to find me or something?”

“I don’t think I want to see you so bad that I’m gonna die,” Connie said with a grin.

“Maybe I shouldn’t go,” he said, still fretting. His eyes moved around the room like they were in a fight - his gem, her fake one, the doorway that led to Amethyst downstairs, the dome. “We should get this under control first. I can delay the mission until-”

“Steven, no! You’re doing important work. I’m not going to teleport into space or anything.” She couldn’t explain the tension that filled her body, the distress at the idea of him putting everyone on hold for her, the odd burden that came with the idea of him giving up more, looking to her more, and her...

She ruffled his hair, trying for friendliness and respect. “Go do your job, Steven. You know I can handle myself.”

“You had a nightmare,” he murmured. His fingers wrapped around her wrist, stilling her hand in his hair. His eyes were round and big and worried. “And I was in it. The pink version of me. What happened?”

“It doesn’t mean anything. It’s just  _ stress _ , Steven. I have tennis, cram school, sword practice, college admission, gem missions, brand-new magic powers…” She took his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze, a warm smile as she told the truth as sincerely as she could, “A bad dream or two is normal. It was scary, but I’m fine.”

He dropped her hand to hug her instead, but his nervousness flowed from him to her as he whispered, “Just because it’s normal doesn’t mean you have to deal with it alone. You helped me through all kinds of stuff, big and small. I’m happy to make time for you.”

“We were saving the world,” she whispered back. “This is just a high school student having a bad dream. I’m not even tired, Steven. Please don’t worry about it, and just get your work done.”

Steven pulled away, pausing only to quickly kiss her cheek as he settled back to a more socially acceptable distance. His eyes were still keen and insistent on hers. “If you need me, there’s a lot of communication relays here in the house. I’ll be back on earth as fast as I can if anything goes wrong.”

“I’m going to be _ fine _ ! Worrier.” She playfully squeezed his cheek. “I was going to have a busy week anyway. We’re doing chemistry cramming in cram school and it’s my worst subject. I’ll be so busy studying there won’t be any time for magic mayhem.”

He laughed. “I wish that was how it worked. But, seriously, promise me you’ll call if anything goes wrong.”

“I promise,” she agreed, and tried not to be frustrated with her ever-anxious, ever-protective, and ever-sweet best friend. 

Connie looked at him and he had that expression again - one a braver person would call lovesick. He had kissed her cheek just a moment before, but they did that now. That wasn’t necessarily romantic. Other cultures did it all the time, and she didn’t get heart-pounding about it anymore. She was just content. 

But he was so sweet, and so kind, and so worried about this, that maybe she should put his mind on something else. Maybe he’d been asking for something else. It couldn’t hurt to try, not when he was rushing off to space in an hour and she could run and hide if she needed to.

And. Well. She kind of wanted to.

Connie leaned forward, quickly giving him a small peck on the lips. It was too fast to be anything, so brief she didn’t even feel it. But she had done it, she knew that. She knew it from the dizzy feeling that filled her head. She knew it from Steven’s grin ( _ definitely _ a lovesick grin) as his fingers came up to his lips.

“See you in a week!” she blurted, and because she absolutely could not hear his response - positive or negative - she let teenage awkwardness spur her to rip a hole in the world and rush through before Steven could get a word in.

The portal sealed behind her before he could follow. She was back in her room. She was grinning like an idiot, because she had managed to kiss Steven Universe on the lips, which was equal parts amazing and terrifying.

Of course, she couldn’t spend all day dwelling on the fact that she had kissed Steven. She took the stairs two at a time, humming something bright and cheery as she hopped into the kitchen and dug into the fridge for something quick. Healthy snacks were always abundant in the Maheswaran household.

In no time at all, her hands were full of cottage cheese and strawberry jam, and her hip bumped the fridge door closed. She didn’t even notice her mother sitting at the table as she reached up for the bowls in the cabinet above.

“Someone’s having a good day,” her mother said. Her expression was unreadable with a coffee mug covering half her face, and the older woman took a long sip before she continued, “I was going to offer to make you a cup, but it doesn’t look like you need it.”

Connie grinned as she tried to contain the bubbles in her chest. She decided immediately not to tell her mother about the latest development, which was hardly a development at all. Maybe when she had a  _ real _ kiss she could let her know. For now, she kept her voice light and airy, “I don’t know. I just have the feeling that today is something special. Don’t you ever have days like that?”

Priyanka considered that for a bit. 

“No,” she decided firmly. “Never.”

Connie raised an eyebrow. “What about the day you married Dad?”

“I wasn’t entirely sure the whole ceremony would go right,” she drawled. The mug clicked down on the table and her mother turned to spreading cream cheese on a bagel. “I was mostly stressed and planning.”

She rolled her eyes. “Okay. So, the day you had me?”

“If you ever go through childbirth I’ll bring this conversation up again,” Priyanka scoffed. Her teeth sunk into the bagel with a crisp sound, and Connie’s mood was just a little dampened by the only practicality that could rival her own.

Her spoon clinked against ceramic as she mixed jam and cheese together in a bright pink swirl. “You’re so unromantic.”

Priyanka raised an eyebrow. “Who said anything about romance? I was asking about my happy daughter and remembering giving birth.”

“There was wedding talk in there,” Connie said, and found herself immediately flustered. Time to abort that mission as quick as possible. She tossed her breakfast ingredients back in the fridge and rushed off. “I’m going to take this upstairs, okay? I have to get ready for cram school.”

“Go, study for your classes,” she said, and as Connie ran up the stairs she called, “If Steven is in your room you should at least let your mother know!”

“He’s going to space!” Connie shouted, and took the stairs two at a time yet again, this time to flee the most awkward conversation she could imagine. The second she swung the door shut behind her, she muttered to herself, “I’m not  _ that _ irresponsible.”

If there was anything Connie could pride herself on, it was responsibility. After all, she had everything on her plate and yet it all remained perfectly balanced. She allowed herself a certain amount of schoolgirl gushing and reminiscing over the absolutely adorable memory of Steven’s fingers delicately pressed to his lips, as if he couldn’t believe it was true.

Once that was done and her breakfast half gone, she flipped open her book to get into studying. Notebook on her desk, book propped up for reading, she carefully rewrote her notes and focused on her work and tried to get the impossible beast that was chemistry into her brain.

Her phone buzzed, and a (slightly irresponsible) glance down showed her the text,  _ Hey, Connie! We’re heading out. Call me if you need me. _

Perhaps a touch more schoolgirl gushing was acceptable. Next time, she would kiss him better. She would remember what it felt like to have his lips against hers. That would count more as a first kiss, because she felt like the one she had given before rushing off was too brief to count.

She sent down her phone and looked back at her book, ready to get into studying, when it sunk in that Steven was gone. Off planet. Like a switch, it had gone from something she  _ knew _ to something she  _ felt _ , and she hated the way it crashed into her - like a wave she couldn’t see.

Connie couldn’t hop over to see him, or call him on the phone, or text him. That had always been the case when he had gone off-planet, but that didn’t feel normal anymore. Her insides went hollow at the feeling. He’d been gone for a minute and she missed him terribly.

She tried to shake it off and focus on protons and neutrons and not the fact that she hadn’t even taken the time to memorize his lips against hers. Why had she gone off so fast and not savored that moment? He was her friend, maybe something other than her friend, and he was gone for a week and that was all she had to show for it?

As a comfort, she reached down inside her and tried to summon her half, her sword, because maybe looking at the pink would soothe the odd missing of him. Maybe, if she had a little bit of comfort, she could get her mind back to where it needed to be.

But there was no magic to grab. The mark remained on her belly, but it seemed almost duller than before. The ember of magic she had stoked was barely lit, barely glowing in her stomach. She stared, confused and concerned and wondering what could possibly be wrong. And then it clicked.

Her heart sunk. Steven’s gem had a range, and she was outside it.


	7. Separation Anxiety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connie spends a week without Steven.

Steven had a week-long trip, and that really wasn’t that abnormal. Connie knew that her probably-boyfriend was busy handling quite a bit of magic stuff, and she did miss him sometimes, but that was alright. She had a busy life of her own - books, tennis, test prep, and researching universities.

It was a little weirder this time, though, because her thoughts kept turning to Steven. Her head was constantly full of wondering what he was up to. She mused on what Steven would think of a show, of a book, of her studies. Her room was full of memory landmines, where every step brought up another moment of giggly afternoons together.

She never considered herself the kind of girl who would waste her life pining away after a boy. She had her own life with her own interests, and she was hardly ever going to be a depressed lump just because a boy she had a crush on was too busy to talk to her for a while.

Because it was Steven, she _would_ drop everything in her life to go to him if he needed her, but most of that was world-saving stuff anyway. She had some dignity, after all. She wouldn’t cancel violin lessons just because he had a papercut. Though he’d never ask her to cancel violin lessons over a papercut, because he was self-sacrificing to a fault, and sweet, and with his sparkly magic he could heal himself anyway...

Connie had been thinking about him for four days now. She’d been struggling to think about basically anything else. She was in cram school, listening to her professor lecture about chemistry, and she was doodling because doodling always helped her focus.

That was extra helpful with her mind so distant with Steven. Usually, her hand would move while her mind focused on more important things, and then later she’d look down to a page full of weapons in the margins - swords and hammers and spears.

Daniel leaned over her shoulder, peering at her notebook from his spot beside her. “Sooo… are you having a thing with Steven?”

“What?” 

Daniel pointed down and she followed his finger. Far from her normal kunai and daggers, she had dotted the page with little hearts and cartoon doodles of the boy in question. Heat crawled up her cheeks as she slammed her notebook shut. “Just, uh, trying something different,” she said, forcing a laugh.

“Trying something different like pining over a guy?” His index and middle finger came to rest on the cover of the spiral notebook, and he wiggled it back and forth with a wicked grin. “Maheswaran, this is middle-school-tier shit.”

“Shut up,” she mumbled, snatching it away. “It’s not what you think. It’s magic stuff.”

Their desks were arranged as small tables, ascending in five rows in the small room. Daniel sat to her right, Patricia sat behind, and both were unbearably noisy as they leaned in from two sides. The other girl asked, “What’s going on with Connie?”

“Magic stuff,” she said, trying to pivot the conversation, “Did you find the solution to-”

Daniel spun around in his seat, legs spread around his chair as he leaned on the back. His obnoxious grin spread wide as he tattled on her. “Connie is drawing hearts in her notebook like she’s twelve.”

“There’s circumstances.”

“Circumstances like _what_? You’re finally admitting you’re in love with your boyfriend.” Patricia put her hands together in prayer, closing her eyes with a rapturous hum. “Oh Aphrodite, goddess of getting some, thank you for finally blessing our girl with a lick of common sense.”

Over Daniel’s cackle, Connie fumed, “Listen, it’s magic stuff! I’m tied up on Steven’s gem or something. He’s-”

He gasped, putting a hand on her arm. “Hold on, hold on - he’s tying you up?”

“Okay,” she muttered, shoving her notebook in her bag, shoving his hand off her arm as humiliation scorched up the back of her neck. “Good talk. Good friends. I’ve got actual studying to do, so I’ll see you some other time.”

“Nooo, wait,” Patricia groaned. “Connie, we’re _playing_.”

“Yeah, we’re sorry.” Daniel put his hand on her shoulder, stilling her rapid departure. “We’re happy for you.”

“It just feels like you’re making fun of me.” Connie looked back and forth between her two friends, and found their expressions sweet and encouraging. She swallowed her nerves and said, “I mean, it’s Steven. It’s not really that different. I shouldn’t be, you know…”

“Dude, romantic stuff is weird for everyone. We were only joking because, yeah. It’s _Steven_.” Daniel laughed. “We kind of all thought you were already doing some kind of dating partnership thing already.”

She hesitated, but her friends did seem interested in helping, and they did have more experience than her with this kind of thing. Hoping she didn’t sound too nervous, Connie confessed, “Steven is kind of new to a lot of human stuff. I make all the first steps. Who even knows what he thinks romance is supposed to be like?”

Patricia raised an eyebrow, leaning forward to say, “What if, and I know this is crazy, you _asked_ Steven how he feels.”

Daniel clicked his tongue, pointing at her. “You know, that might work. He might actually tell her what he thinks romance is like, and then they could have a mutually respectful conversation where they find each other’s boundaries, hopes, and desires.”

“Thanks, doctors, I’ll get to it later,” Connie scoffed. She slung her backpack up as she got to her feet. “My life is too busy to add romance into it. I just… I don’t want to think about it.”

Daniel snickered. “That’s not what the notebook says.”

“I can be romantic in college, when we’re both got ourselves together.” She shook her head as she tucked her phone in her pocket, then did a quick mental inventory of having everything on her. If she was Steven, she would pat her pockets, because Steven always checked for his keys and wallet by patting his pocket before he headed out the door, and she _needed_ to stop thinking about Steven for five minutes.

“Girl, you sound like you have a deep well of issues.” Patricia muttered, “it’s a date. Clear your schedule.”

She thought about answering for a second, but the deep well of issues was bubbling to her lips. She swallowed it down, waved goodbye, and did her best to go home and stop thinking about the boy with curly hair who translated very, very well to cartoon doodles.

* * *

Day five, and she had never thought about anything this much in her life. Was she obsessed? Was this what obsession felt like? She could only hope this wasn’t what love was supposed to be, because it was by far the most inconvenient thing she had ever experienced.

She was sitting beside her father on the couch watching bad anime. Except she wasn’t watching anime at all, because her head was full of Steven, because she hadn’t seen or heard from him in five days and everything was awful. She tried to focus.

“You and Mom spent a lot of time apart, right?” Connie asked, because she was hopeless and the anime wasn’t even that good to watch so who cared about the stupid thing. “What was that like?”

“Sucked.”

“Dad!” She snorted. He paused the show, looking away from the screen with a grin. She could always count on him to pay attention to her wonderfully exciting life. “I mean, you know, Mom was really busy with classes and her residency and your schedules were weird. Did you miss her a lot?”

“Oh, yeah.” He laughed. “Being alone without your mother was the worst. It was worth it for your mother’s career and the money to raise you, but if we didn’t have a kid I would’ve ditched security and found some kind of day shift work.”

“But your career...” Connie frowned. Day shift work wasn’t often security work - and it came with less pay, less mobility, less consistency. At least, that was the explanation he had given when she asked why he didn’t get a job so he could be home at night.

He clapped her knee. “Well, sweetie, that’s the big messy thing they don’t tell you on TV. Sometimes you have to choose between your relationship and your career. It happens to most couples.”

“Why can’t you have both?” Her frown deepened.

“No clue. Seems like bourgeoisie oppression to me.” He kissed her forehead with a little laugh, then scooped her close with an arm around her hip. “Go destroy capitalism, my little revolutionary.”

“Haha.” She wrinkled her nose at him, then pushed, “Seriously! How are you supposed to choose between stuff like that?”

“Sometimes you’ve got to make some sacrifices.” His voice was calm in that fatherly way, reassuring and grounding even as her head threatened to go a million places at once. “But I don’t think you have to worry. Steven seems like he’s going to put romance in front of his job plans.”

“Self-sacrifice isn’t always that great,” she said, feeling her cheeks warm yet again. “And I never said anything about Steven, Dad.”

“You didn’t, huh? I guess you were asking because you’ve got a crush on Daniel, and not your spacefaring boyfriend who just took a week-long trip?” He teased. His fingers squeezed her cheek, and she giggled and whined as she shoved it off. 

“Boyfriend is a loaded word! It’s a new era!” she protested with a laugh, eager for a change in topic that didn’t feel so serious, and didn’t involve so many troubling things. “Maybe, if we were something, we’d be a… a partnership. Or a queerplatonic relationship. Or maybe we just want to call it boring best friends. Labels are outdated anyway.”

He held his hands up as he laughed. “Okay! I’ve been scolded. But no labels means you have to have all those relationship talks, right? Marriage, how much time you want to spend together, money, if you can see other people…” He looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “It’s not _easier_ just because you don’t call it dating, honey.”

Connie agreed, or mostly agreed, and snagged the remote before they could talk about it any longer. With the conversation dead, she tried to focus on the show and found her thoughts turning back to Steven. Would he like the show? Who would his favorite character be? How much would he complain about the cinematography? 

Steven wasn’t there, and she hated not having him around for days on end. Connie wondered how he was doing out in space. She hoped he wasn’t lonely and that Amethyst was a good companion. It was so weird he wasn’t here and-

She was losing the thread of the plot. It was a bad show anyway. Of course she could only focus on Steven when something so boring was onscreen. She apologized as she jumped to her feet, explaining to her dad, “My brain’s still in school mode. I’m gonna go play a game.”

“Good luck, honey,” her father said. “Go conquer the world for me.”

It had always been easy to lose herself in a video game compared to a show. Video games punished a lack of focus. They demanded attention. So there was no way to pop open one of her favorite games and end up thinking about Steven, because her mind would be completely involved in the game.

Of course, if he was here she’d have to explain and narrate what she was doing, because Steven was curious about the stuff she did but terrible about asking questions. It gave her the chance to ramble about her own interests, though, so she couldn’t complain that much, especially when he was so interested and so sweet and hung on her every word as if she was the most interesting girl in the world.

It’d be fun, and he’d be cute, because she was sure he’d want to choose the units and buildings based on appearances. He’d probably get all excited about cultural victories, or diplomatic victories, and playfully scold her for her warmongering ways.

Wait.

How long had she been staring at the screen?

Her heart plummeted into her belly as her cursor hovered over the end turn button. She’d zoned out before she clicked it and without a clock open she couldn’t even be sure how long she’d been drifting to the thought of some kind of gaming date with Steven. Not a date. A friendly thing.

She slammed the laptop lid too hard, and didn’t even bother checking if it was safe. Tires. She growled softly, her hands coming up behind her head to pull it down to her knees. Chemistry was kicking her ass and frying her brain. She was never any good at chemistry.

She angrily brushed her teeth, so her gums prickled from the rough treatment as she yanked her pajamas over her bed. She grabbed the edge of her loft and pulled, hearing the memory of her mother’s dismayed: _You’re going to break it! You’re going to break_ you _!_ as she flipped herself into bed. She got none of her usual satisfaction from the accomplishment.

Connie Maheswaran had grown up lonely. She had wandered through cities and woods and along docks without a friend. That was something she couldn’t control. She couldn’t make people be friends with the new girl. Instead, she could focus on good grades, being knowledgeable, and good at sports.

She laid in bed and stared up at the ceiling. Steven was far away. Her first friend. Her best friend. The boy she’d kissed just a few days before. All her brain was taken up with missing him, and she could only define herself through the absence.

* * *

By day six, she was done with it all.

She knew that she had never been so bothered by Steven’s trips before. She knew she was bothered by them now. It didn’t take a genius of the scientific method to pick out the thing that had changed between the last trip and this one - the tattoo on her belly, the magic that had vanished the moment Steven had gone off-planet.

Even more clear was how to deal with the disaster at hand. Peridot was the one who had done the initial analysis. Peridot was the one who said that everything was fine. Peridot was the one who could analyze the problem further and make up for her previous mistake.

So as to not inconvenience her mother, Connie waited until she went to work for the day before heading out to Little Homeworld. Her parents would assume that she spent the morning studying, like she usually did, and that wasn’t even really that wrong. She was just studying magic was all.

Peridot was easy enough to find, as it was a Thursday and therefore a Camp Pining Hearts day. She and Lapis were none too pleased to have their marathon interrupted, but it was Peridot’s fault she was in this mess. The gem had not given her proper information, and Connie dragged her away while biting back a fierce rant. 

Soon enough she was rigged up to yet another one of Peridot’s terrifying machines, the green gem scowling at screens as she tried to find any disturbance or error in her previous work. “So what’s the problem?” Peridot demanded. “You’re thinking about Steven?”

“I can’t _stop_ thinking about Steven,” she corrected. “And I never had that problem before all the magic stuff. I thought about Steven a normal amount and everything was fine! So figure out what it did to my brain.”

“Your brain is fine,” Peridot said flatly. Her arms crossed over her chest, ever insulted at the implication that anything could be wrong with her conclusions. “There’s no magic messing with your head. You’re just acting normal for someone who lost a limb.”

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

“It’s a _metaphor_ ,” Peridot sighed, already looking exhausted by Connie’s inability to not instantly understand every implication of a single sentence. As Connie’s expression turned into an angry scowl, Peridot held up her hands. “Okay! I’ll try to explain this in a way your simple child brain can understand.”

“I’m _seventeen_.”

As usual, Peridot ignored the correction. Instead, she dove into her explanation, “You were added to Steven’s gem. Or, from your perspective, you suddenly _gained_ a gem, as if some human scientist decided to up your efficiency and attach a few extra arms to your torso.”

Connie could feel how flat her face was. “Yeah, of course. Just like that normal experience.”

“I _told_ you that Steven has a radius.” Peridot hummed as she pulled up a map of the county on her screen, and tapped a stylus against her chin. “I’ve refined my estimate with the preliminary data, though to get it down to the foot I’d _really_ need both of you together.” The little gem shrugged. “The point is, it’s just like I said! Steven has a range. When he left, you _lost_ a gem.”

“And it’s Steven’s gem, so I miss Steven.” She closed her eyes as worry started to build, the tension settling into a low throb of tightened muscles in her palms. So Steven’s lightyear distant trips would be… unpleasant. Always. “What did you say the range was? Global? To the moon?”

Peridot waved her off, and then with a little ding she burst into happy giggles, a little goblin dance, and used her stylus to circle a range on the map as she talked. “Preliminary study sets it at about four hundred and twelve of your earth miles.”

“No, that can’t be right.” Connie shook her head. There was the old feel of an anxiety attack coming around the corner, fear spreading long, pointed fingers through her brain. She tried to breathe deep as her lungs demanded she hyperventilate. “How am I supposed to have my own life? I have to be in the same state as him. There goes all my college plans. Most of them. What if my job makes me travel?”

She’d looked into universities around the world. She had always loved travelling and adventure, after all. She still wasn’t solid on her major, wobbling between politics and biology and engineering and english, none of which had much of an overlap.

But that had been fine, because she had time to figure things out. She had a break from responsibilities and burdens and from _being_ a responsibility and a burden. And now there was a tether. A leash.

A thousand strings holding her steady and still.

Peridot rolled her eyes as Connie’s ever-mounting panic. “Calm down. The effect took a full week to become uncomfortably distracting.”

“It was distracting from the beginning!” she cried. “In four days my performance was starting to suffer!”

“Just visit Steven once a week or every few days with your portals.” Peridot’s voice was turning screechy, anger at being questioned making her fume and growl. “There’s teleportation technology _every_ where!”

Connie shook her head as she doubled over, trying to suck in air as the world started to spin. “This is way too risky. I got into this too fast. This isn’t saving the world. It’s just… just relationship stuff. I can deal with this when I’m older. Take me off the gem and-”

“Whoa!” Lapis was standing over her, raising an eyebrow as she looked down at the gasping teen. “You sound like you’re about to steal a barn and crash on the moon, dude. Think stuff through.”

Connie’s brows came together, confusion breaking through the panic. She raised her head, deep breaths, steadying herself as she focused on Lapis. “I _am_ thinking things through. The smart thing is to end this until we’re older and we know what’s going on. This is a bad time.”

“I don’t get what the big deal is,” Lapis said. “You have to see Steven every few days, but you have portal powers and Lion and… don’t humans waste half their lives sleeping anyway?

“One third on average,” Peridot corrected. “It varies.”

“What does sleep have to do with anything?” Connie demanded.

“If you spend a bunch of time sleeping, why not just portal home and sleep with him?” Lapis continued, and, being a gem, she paid no notice to the horrible choking noise Connie made at the implication. She shrugged, coming to sit beside Connie on the lawn chair. “Or just see him for a little while. You don’t need to break his heart over it.”

She tugged off the sensors. “I don’t know.”

“Connie, it’s barely a risk. It’s worth it.” Lapis snickered. “If _I’m_ telling you it’s a bad idea and you shouldn’t run away, maybe you should think about it.”

“I just don’t understand what’s wrong with me.” She clenched her fists and glared at them, her head swirling with a cocktail of anxiety and anger and loneliness and frustration. The words burst from her in a rush, then stopped as quickly as they came: “It’s like I’m out of my… mind.”

Her hands fell to her lap as she remembered the last time her emotions had turned this tangled and confused. She had spent too much time alone after Steven returned from Homeworld, after he brushed her feelings aside without a care. She had spiraled out, unsure how to respond - missing him desperately with her head a fuzz of loneliness and longing for her best friend. All of it had been wrapped up in an ugly bow of betrayal, tying everything up inescapably inside.

The things she’d do to never feel that way again.

“So, do you want off his gem or what?” Peridot snapped.

“Sorry,” she said, getting to her feet. It was happening again. She promised herself it wouldn’t, but it was. She was shutting down, locking up, the words refusing to come to sort out a problem that might have been solved in a quick conversation, a quick text. 

It was just missing him. They could sort it out. She closed her eyes and headed home, muttering, “I’m rushing into it. Forget I was even here.”  
  



	8. Reunited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steven and Connie talk after Steven returns from his trip.

She _felt_ Steven come home. 

Connie was struggling to focus on a fantasy book, a simple one she had read a dozen times before, when a warmth curled into her belly. There was a sudden relief, like when she kneaded into a muscle and felt the knot come undone, and it was so overwhelming she groaned.

A silly, giddy smile spread over her face as the buzzing started on her pillow. There was no point in reading now, and she tossed her book aside to trade it for her phone. 

Steven was back on Earth, and Connie supposed he must have felt it as keenly as she did. Each sentence was a new text, a buzz on her cell so the little thing vibrated in her hands like it could feel the excitement too. 

_Did you feel that?_

_Oh my gosh!_

_That was so cool._

_If you can come over today, you should._

_I really missed you._

_I’ve got so much to say!_

_I can tell,_ she returned.

Her phone was still going, but she ignored it as she considered her situation. It was after dinner, but both her parents were working nights, so the house was empty and still. She'd washed the bowl she’d used for reheated leftovers, so there wasn't anything for them to ask her to do in the morning.

The odds were low that they would come check on her. She couldn't even remember the last time they had. Besides, she was too giddy and silly to care. There was no need to waste time replying to his flurry of texts. 

She ripped a hole in the world, tumbling into the warm liquid wax of her portal. Humid heat filled her lungs as she stepped into the greenhouse, bright and lively and beautiful as flowers bloomed all around. 

And, because she thought of herself as quite the charmer when she had the right setup, Connie winked and said, “I think you were saying you missed me?”

He cried her name and rushed forward, his arms wrapping around her. Steven was just on the brink of being too tight, but she couldn't care as she hugged him just as fiercely. 

There was the tingly memory of a feeling around her navel that told her his magic was working, and before she could process it her feet had left the ground.

"I missed you so much," he murmured into her hair.

He hadn’t changed, had he? His voice wasn’t any deeper, he wasn’t any bigger or warmer. Still, somehow everything felt heavier, a thrum of excitement racing through her as his chest buzzed against her own, as his warm breath sent tingles over her scalp. She let her face fall against his shoulder, surrounding herself in his smell and touch and sound.

“I missed _you_ so much.” A nervous laugh escaped her at the realization that she was going to have to tell him about her nightmare of a week, and she was thankful for her hidden face. “Maybe _too_ much.”

He pulled away with a giggle of his own, and their feet slowly came back to the floor. “It was way more intense than I thought it’d be." Steven's hand brushed across the back of his neck with a strained chuckle of his own. "I mean, I always missed you, but I _really_ missed you this time.”

The two of them had forgotten that Amethyst was there at all, and sprung apart when she laughed. “Yeah, by the end of the week he wouldn’t shut up about you.” She brought her hands together, fluttering her eyelashes. “Do you think Connie would like this voting system? I bet Connie would love this flower. Do you think we could wake up early tomorrow so we can see Connie earlier? _Dude_ , I don’t even _sleep_.”

Steven laughed, giving the gem a not-too-subtle elbow to her side. “I wasn’t that bad. She just thinks it’s really funny.”

“Dude, I am underselling how clingy you were,” Amethyst said flatly. “Heads up, Connie, your boyfriend is needy.”

Connie grinned as his expression grew ever more sheepish and embarrassed, and tried to cut him some slack. “I think it’s gem stuff. I couldn’t stop thinking about you either.”

Steven was all too grateful for the save, and Connie watched as Steven eagerly babbled to Amethyst about how he wasn’t clingy at all. In turn, Amethyst gave a few flippant responses before pushing out the greenhouse door with a cool, “Well, you two can be saps together. I’ve got better stuff to do.”

Her fingers traced the petals of a cluster of tiny bluebells as Steven stepped up behind her. His head fell to her shoulder, and the contact was an instant sense of relief, an instant sense of _home_ that stopped her thoughts completely for a moment to savor the familiarity.

His voice was an adoring moan, like she was the first bite of a decadent dessert as he said, “You’re so pretty. I missed looking at you.”

“Me or the flowers?” she joked, if only to detract from the fact that her cheeks were getting hot _again_. No wonder they called it lovesick. She was running a perpetual fever. She rushed on, realizing she had left him an opening for more flirtation: “So, how was your week. Get a lot of-”

“Horrible!” he interrupted. Steven pulled away, leaning against the table the bluebells sat on with puppy dog eyes. “The second I left I _knew_ something was wrong. I missed you right away.”

She winced. “I’m sorry. It must be magic stuff, because I had the same problem. By the end of the week it was really bad. I couldn’t get anything done.”

“Why not?”

“Oh, um, I was doodling you in cram class. And little hearts.”

Saying it out loud was somehow so much worse than she thought. Her own voice sounded childish and silly to her own ears, and she decided that the better thing to do would be to keep busy. Her focus tore from the embarrassment of the situation as she found a watering can and hose, quickly twisting the spigot open.

Steven’s giggle tormented her nevertheless. “That sounds so cute! Can I see?”

“Oh, geez, _no_ ,” she gasped. Her cheeks ached from the embarrassed smile. Off went the water and she hefted the can, heading back to the bluebells. There were plenty of things that needed doing that did _not_ involve looking into Steven’s eyes as she confessed: “And I couldn’t study as long, because I kept getting distracted by how much I missed you. Last night I couldn’t even _game._ ”

Water rained down onto dry soil, slipping down the leaves of the bluebells, and despite her best efforts she found herself looking into Steven’s grinning face. He’d ducked down, bending over the table so his eyes were turned up to hers. “You got off easy. I was like that, uh, day three? Wouldn’t go away.” 

He laughed, and he took the watering can from her hands like it was empty, setting it aside before her absentmindedness drowned the poor things. “I missed you so, _so_ bad! I started trying to pull your sword from my gem just because I wanted something of yours. The pictures on my phone weren’t enough.”

“Steven, I’m so sorry.” Guilt filled her chest as her eyes went wide, and she suddenly had flashbacks to her dream, her pink self hissing about greed. And here it was, plain to see - she’d wanted power and now Steven was paying the price.

He didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. His shrug didn’t seem to hide a deeper turmoil, and his laugh seemed as genuine as ever. “It’s not a big deal. I get emotional all the time! I just dealt with it and got my work done.” As he remembered, he snapped his fingers. “Right! Early on I tried to use your powers too, but they didn’t work. I couldn’t get stuck or make portals.”

“Just be stubborn and want to go places,” she said, her eyes skimming the room for some other chore to do.

“I tried. I definitely felt both, but it didn’t work.”

Steven’s fingers slipped through hers, and that comforting home of his touch was too much to resist. She let herself be tugged over to the beanbag she had spent hours studying on, let him guide her down into it. She had thought he would sit beside her.

Instead, he laid on the floor. His head settled into her lap with a happy sigh. Warmth bloomed up in her chest as the weight landed, which was silly. She had let Steven rest his head in her lap plenty of times, countless times, and there was no need to feel warm and bubbly about it. Maybe it’d be a big deal to other people, but not for them. Not for her. 

Steven closed his eyes, completely serene as he spoke, “I talked to this Amber - they’re organic specialists - because I thought she might have an idea about all this. And she did, kinda? She said that two rubies will pull different weapons from their gems, because their personalities are different. It’s not just about how you feel, but who you _are_. So maybe I’m not as stubborn as you, or adventurous as you, so I can’t use those powers.”

“Isn’t that scary?” Connie asked. Her fingers hovered above his forehead. She had stroked her there plenty before, coaxed him to sleep by soothingly running her fingers through his curls like he was a beloved pet. It was cute and fun.

And something felt bigger about touching him now.

“Why?” he murmured. His eyes opened, still lazy and half-lidded, dark and soft as they met her own and saw her hovering hand. There was a sudden shock, a sudden shame. Not from the attempt to touch, but the failure of it. He was nestled into her lap, awaiting her every touch as he generously gave his own, and she was stuck again.

“I mean, it’s your gem. I can make it do things you can’t. And if it’s because we’re different…” She let her fingers fall, because all of this was normal. Because nothing had changed. And her fingertips prickled and sparked with oversensitive nerves as she ran them along his cheek and felt the stubble there that had only cropped up in recent years. “Maybe we’re too different.”

“Not in the ways that matter.”

Connie frowned, searching for differences. The answer came quick - she pulled a sword while he pulled a shield. “I’m more aggressive.”

“So?” Steven grinned and let his eyes flutter open. “I like that about you. It’s nice to have someone who’s going to stick up for me and fight for me when I’m being too nice. And don’t you like having someone who will hold you back if you’re going too far?”

“Yeah.” She mumbled as her eyes turned away. She couldn’t keep looking at him, not when his eyes were big and soft and made her stomach fluttery. “Still. I’m worried we might be moving too fast with all this stuff. What if we’re incompatible?”

He shook his head hard. “Never. We’ve been through everything, _done_ everything. We shared a body, and now we’re sharing the gem-”

“That’s what I meant,” she interrupted. ”Maybe the gem stuff is incompatible.”

“Oh! I thought you meant, um, the kiss you gave me.” His cheeks turned a dark shade of red, quickly spreading up to his ears. As his eyes moved to anything else in the room, Connie was suddenly struck with the thought that kissing a boy right before he ran off to space would probably leave the boy in question with a head full of _very_ busy thoughts.

“Right. The kiss.” She flushed and brought her hands up to cover her face. “The weird red-string-of-fate, soulbound-forever stuff feels a lot bigger.”

He laughed, and she heard his hand slap against his face too. “I don’t know! I guess I always kind of thought we were tied up together! I saved your life after seeing you on that float, and you were my first fusion, and you were such an amazing partner when we fought...All of that felt like destiny. Fate.”

“Of course it did,” she said as she peeked through her fingers. “You romantic. You think we’re soulmates?”

“With all the stuff with my mom, with the gems… I don’t know about fate. You should get to choose who you’re with,” he said, peeking through his fingers just the same. “I just know that we’re always going to choose to be there for each other. So, what changed?”

Her fingers fiddled with the beanbag chair. Easy for him to say when she’d already made the sacrifices. She had been there for _him -_ for _his_ problems. That wasn’t his fault. The world had needed saving and he was tied up in that. She had risked her time and her safety, and she had wanted to, of course. She would never hold that against him.

But what was there now? Her college and her career. There were questions of how to make that work, with his gem having a range and her head going dizzy from him. How much time did girlfriends need to give to their boyfriends? How much time were the boyfriends supposed to give back?

Her hand fell to the top of his head, loose and limp and definitely not tangling and brushing in that intimate way. Flat. Friendly. Her voice was just the same - “It’s new, and it’s different, but that doesn’t mean it’s bad. Just something to figure out together.”

Steven stared up at her for a bit before saying, “You know we don’t have to do anything you don’t want, right? I just want you to be happy.”

“I know,” she agreed.

He was looking at her with that thoughtful expression she’d seen plenty over the years. It was the one he made with a new conflict, a new problem to solve, a new personal issue cropping up in an acquaintance. But, despite his puzzled look, all he said was, “Do you think it might be a good idea for you to stay here tonight?”

She blinked. “Like a sleepover?”

“As long as your parents won’t get too mad. I know they’re weird about that stuff.” He sat up with a grunt and looked back at her. “I was thinking you could stay down here on the couch? It’s for the teleporting.”

It took a second, but the pieces fell into place and she laughed. “Oh! You think the teleporting is the same thing as the break we took - my fake gem misses the real one.”

His smile flickered as he brushed back her hair. “It’s not fake. It’s a piece of my gem, but it’s in you instead of me. So maybe my gem just calls out to you, or you want to be near it.”

“And if I’m close by, I’ll be close enough that I don’t need to teleport,” she finished. “That’s a great idea, Steven! I’ll go get permission.”

Connie hopped on the phone with her mom, and to her surprise Priyanka didn’t make too much of a fuss about her sleeping over. Or, at least, she’d quickly gone from uncertain to calm once Connie had brought up that the sleeping arrangements involved her on the couch.

There was only the briefest of comments, something about Connie needing to keep being responsible and make sure she focused on the right things. Honestly, she’d heard it so many times before she couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to it.

Pearl made up the couch comfortably, fluffy pillows and a light blanket and a heavy blanket so Connie could adjust if she got too hot or too cold. Connie thanked her, and teleported home so she could get ready for bed.

She brushed her teeth and changed into her pajamas as quietly as she could manage, because her parents were sleeping and she had long since learned to keep the volume down for them. Thankfully, her portals were quiet so going back to Steven’s house was just as easy.

“You’re getting good at portaling,” Steven said as she returned.

“I’m a fast learner.” She did a twirl, then winked. “And being nearly an adult probably helps. Are you impressed anyway?”

“Very,” he agreed.

He hesitated, staring at her like he always seemed to be doing nowadays, and then he was so very, very close. His lips met hers for the briefest instant - again too fast to memorize the feeling. A soft peck that left her speechless, despite her assertions of adulthood a moment before.

Steven gulped as he moved back, flustered but smiling. “Goodnight Connie. I’ll see you in the morning.”


	9. Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connie has a dream and an awkward moment with Steven

The thought “don’t I have work to do?” bobbed in the back of her mind, a rock that rested just below the tideline. The fuzziness and comfort of sleep pulled in the waves, covering it more and more, until the dream swallowed it whole. So there was a contented and relaxed Connie Maheswaran, who had no work to do.

They were in Japan, because she had always wanted to go to Japan. Steven had wanted it too. She had unleashed her inner weeb on him years ago, showing him pictures of the most gorgeous parts of the country, until he had fallen in love with it as deeply as she had.

So, there they were. In Japan. There were no questions about it.

She was on a bridge, bright red and creaking as her weight shifted, as his weight shifted beside her. Water was still, smooth as glass and a luscious dark beneath. Trees with white bark stretched for the sky, reds and oranges and even pinks surrounded in them in warmth and beauty. To either side, mosses and bushes were beautiful greens and yellows, drowning them in quiet and privacy.

“I hope this is okay,” Steven said with a nervous little smile. “I know that I go crazy with all this romantic stuff but you always wanted to come here, didn’t you?”

“Kyoto,” she said. She breathed in, and almost, almost broke through. She wanted Kyoto so terribly, so badly that it was too good to be true. She knew it was too good to be true.

She breathed out and sunk, deeper and deeper, because she was so tired of treading water. “I haven't felt like I’ve had the time to come out here, but I always wanted to. I’ve wanted all of this for as long as I can remember. It’s gorgeous.”

“Not as gorgeous as you,” he said, and it flowed as perfectly as the water beneath them. This was his element, and the silly words sounded so natural coming from his lips.

“Oh, gees. You’re so corny!” She laughed as she looked at him.

She loved him. Had she said it before? She must have. She felt it in her head, her heart, her gut, down to her toes. Time was nothing, so if she hadn’t said it before she would have said it later, and it wrapped around itself so it didn’t matter at all. Connie smiled and leaned towards him. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Steven smiled, his face too happy for her to stand.

Connie wanted to touch it, so she did. She pressed up to him and let her hands explore his hairline. She toyed with a curl, felt the softness of his cheek and the sturdy jaw beneath. Her knuckle brushed across his chin, where stubble came tight and scratchy. Her boy. All hers.

“I’m glad you like this stuff,” her boy said. “I’ve been dreaming about all the romantic stuff. I’ve wanted to do it with you since, well, always.”

Connie giggled, almost drunken with the delight of touching him. “Always, huh? But we met when we were kids.”

“Always.” His fingers wrapped around hers, pulled her knuckles to his face and brushed his lips across them. The dream stuttered and reset a dozen times over the affection, the wonderful press of mouth to hand.

She pulled their hands back and mimicked it, a kiss across his fingers. She did it two times. Ten times. One hundred times as he whispered, “When were were kids it didn’t mean anything. I was just a little guy who liked romance and had a wedding planner and a crush on a girl I saw from my float..”

She shook her head, giggles overwhelming her so much she could barely speak. “No, you didn’t. You didn’t have a crush on red boot girl.” The words were wild, she nearly bent over from laughter.

“What’s gotten into you, silly? Of course I did.” His forehead nestled against hers. “Red boot girl had a cute dress, and a bright fashion sense, and she was pretty and I wanted to get to know her.”

“Poor you. So many options for a first crush and you started with the girl who looked at boats,” she teased. “At least you wound up with the girl who’s good with swords. A minor step up.”

“I love the girl who looked at boats.” His hand moved across her face, pushed back her hair as he stared into her eyes. Glasses flickered between them, her vision blurring and clearing over and over again as he whispered, “You’re still her.”

Laughing again, laughing too hard and too loud because she was too much of everything. Long hair flailed around her as she shook her head, shook it down into short tresses once again. “No, I’m not. She was anxious and shy and awkward and had no upper body strength.”

“She was smart and honest and noticed stuff no one else did.” He pulled her back, strong and warm and everything around her was home. His hands caged her face, holding her steady. “And brave. You’re all that stuff now. You know, you kissed me first.”

“That wasn’t bravery. I didn’t even think about it.” Her face was feverish again. She was lovesick. She grinned up at him. “I just wanted to so I did it. I probably should have asked you first.”

“I never would have been brave enough. I’m so glad you kissed me.” 

The room was soft and warm. His room. His bed. Sunlight fell on her face in the morning glow and they had always been here. Always. Steven’s weight was against her and he was big and broad to her smallness and she loved it. She leaned back and let more of him fall against her, in the bed they had always been in. Their bed.

“Making the first move was too much pressure. I feel like if I say or do the wrong thing I might push you away.” His lips were almost on hers. Were they on hers? No, no, not yet. He was close, but not there.

“Me? Steven, you’re the one who’s always running off on me.” Her heart had iron bars around it and she gasped from the pain in her chest, words stumbling out. “That’s not what I mean. I mean, I’m not going anywhere. I’m not. I’m here.”

“I just… I need to be needed,” he said softly. 

He was expectant, wanting, and she couldn’t speak the words he wanted. His fingers were falling down her spine. Her head spun from it. Everything was spiraling, fumbling, and he was so steady now. So sure. So confident. The roles reversed and she gripped his shirt to stay upright beneath him.

“Have I told you how beautiful you are?”

“I think so,” she whispered.

“I don’t know if I said it right - the way I wanted to, I mean. I want to write songs about how pretty you are.” Steven was so close. She was sure he could hear her heart pounding.

“No, you haven’t done that,” she whispered. “I think I would have remembered a song all about how hot I am.” She tried to laugh, but her throat was too tight. She wished she still had the giggles, but they had vanished under his dark eyes, the quiet of his room.

He murmured, “All I ever wanted was to love somebody. I’m gonna spend the rest of my life making sure you know how much I care about you.”

“Please.” Her heart ached in her chest as cords wrapped tighter and tighter and bound it up. Her voice begged, rough and weak. “Stay.”

“I’m right here,” he said, confused.

He kissed her like they had never kissed before. Maybe they hadn’t. The taste of berries and summer burst onto her tongue as his mouth pressed against hers. Every breath was a gasp, and her eyes were burning as she clung to his shirt. He was there, right there, with no plans to run off to space.

Steven planned to write songs about her.

She pulled, rocking back so he was on top of her and his weight was a constant comfort - here, here, here and he wanted to spend his life by her side. His lips moved to her neck and her fingers clenched in his hair.

“That stupid little girl on the beach never had any friends,” Connie said, and all her emotions were so high she couldn’t tell if the tightness in her voice was from kissing or from some other strange misery building in her chest.

“She was all alone and she only noticed stuff because there wasn’t anything else to do.” She clung to him tight and her head pushed against his neck, because she was crying. She wasn’t. She wouldn’t. Her voice cracked. “I hate her. I hate that stupid lonely idiot.”

“You’re not alone. I’m here,” he whispered. He put himself on his elbows, easing his weight off.

No. Nonono there wasn’t his weight holding her down and the tide was going out. She had work to do and there were fingers around her wrist to drag her away from birthday parties and into tennis and violin and the door was always locked in her stupid empty house.

It was hard to breathe.

She tried to suck in air and ended up gasping for it.

As she looked down she found them back. Pink cords snaked around her from head to toe, digging into her skin. She screamed as she grabbed them and pulled and she was a stupid little girl in stupid red rainboots alone on the docks. There was a library book in her hand as she quizzed herself on types and when she tried to throw it away razor paper sliced through her finger 

so a drop of blood slid down 

the cords that stretched from the tips of her fingers

and the pain of it all ripped the dream to pieces.

* * *

Connie imagined that most girls would wake up from her dream would have nothing but a touch of embarrassment. Oh, the humiliation to be crushing so hard that one had a dream about kissing in Kyoto. Surely, that was enough for a teenager to shoulder? Surely that was enough and not a drop of confusion and strife more?

But no. What a world it would have been to just be concerned over her own emotions, if all she had to deal with were some strange dreams before getting on with her day. She was sure she could have taken that in stride.

Instead, her heart pounded as she stared up at the beach house ceiling. She had more to worry about, because her dreams had felt so much more real lately. They had more structure, more firmness to them than she ever had before. Moreso than ever that had been true that night.

So. Maybe. They weren’t _just_ her dreams.

The morning light filtered in through every window in the pretty, privacy-free house and made it impossible to sleep. She was still on the couch, snuggled up and warm as sunlight poured on her face like a bucket of cold water. She was a warrior, and she had practice with stress. Connie calmed the painful beating of her heart into a gentle rhythm as she tried to keep her head.

Priority one, and something to be relieved about - she was still on the couch and had not sleep-portaled into Steven’s bed. It might have been too early to call it a solution, but it was something worth being happy about. If there were workarounds to the thing that would utterly scandalize her father, maybe she could get used to sleeping away from home a little earlier than originally intended.

Priority two - dreams. She had a lot of-hm. No, actually. Bathroom. Bathroom first, and then dreams. She rearranged her priorities as she hopped off the couch and rushed to the bathroom. Once that was taken care of, she could turn her mind back to the next thing on the list.

Priority three - the dream. Whatever it was, it wasn’t dreamwalking. She knew that well enough. She had let Steven into her head a few times growing up. Sometimes, when she was tired enough to nap at his house, they would find a cozy spot around the house or the forest or the beach and doze off together.

Connie knew exactly what it felt like to have Steven crawling around her head. He couldn’t sneak in. Every dream he had been in immediately lost its dreaminess. It became less surreal and more a stroll through the Room - lucidity in a fantasy world.

As far as she was concerned that left two possibilities. The first was that she had made it all up on her own. It was a stressful time, she was a stressed out person, and she had yet another dream from her own odd imagination. That was nothing to worry about. Everyone had spells of bad dreams.

The second, however, was that there was more gem magic involved. Steven hadn’t gained any new gem powers - or at least he hadn’t mentioned it, and she couldn’t think of any reason why he wouldn’t. She, however, had picked up a handful and there was no reason to think there weren’t a few more.

Perhaps she had the gift of shared dreams. It’d be a weaker power, no lucidity or control to do anything exciting, but there was nothing that indicated her powers had to be as good as Steven’s, or equal in any way. It was possible that Connie had gained a worse version of dreamwalking.

There was no way to know, unless she asked Steven if he had the same dream.

Connie scrubbed her hands and washed her face in the sink. Cold water pricked and stung against her cheeks as she scrubbed off the rest of sleep and brushed the idea aside with it. 

Brave. Nope, not in the slightest. She’d kissed him on the cheek when she had to run off to space camp, consequence free. She kissed his lips for the same reason. There wasn’t going to be a chance for him to scorn her, not in that moment. It was the safest way to do it.

She did not want to ask Steven if he had a dream about romance in Japan with a side of making out in his bed because there was a chance that Steven would say no. If he said no, she would look stupid. She wasn’t home-free if he said yes either, because what if he wanted to have a relationship talk? What if he wanted to talk about things other than kissing, like plans for the future, and commitments, and marriage?

Her chest tightened with the memory of a thousand strings.

No, that was far too scary. Connie would do it on her own. What she lacked in courage she made up for in smarts. As she left the bathroom, she found Steven in the kitchen, and any smart she might have had flew out the window, replaced only with the screaming thought, _Does he know?_

“Morning,” he said, seemingly just as frozen as she was. He held up the bowl of milk in his hand, face a little nervous. He could have been nervous from the dream, or he could have been nervous because she was in his house and he was still thinking about kissing and romance.

Gees, it really had been a busy week, hadn’t it?

He reached up into a cabinet, pulling out some lightly sugared breakfast cereal full of nuts. “Want some? I bought almond milk this week because, you know.” Steven shook the box with a snort. “Almonds.”

“I’m concerned about the water consumption of almonds, but I supposed a little luxury is alright now and again,” she said, trying to relax as she moved into the kitchen beside him.

By the time she was there, he had another bowl out of the cabinet, hand extended to her. “No portaling last night?”

“Yeah! You called it.” 

Connie reached for the bowl and his fingers brushed hers. They had held hands dozens of times before she’d even turned thirteen but now she remembered his fingertips along her face, in her hair. Ceramic fumbled in her hands as she nearly dropped it, then clutched it to her chest with a squeak. “Sorry! Still sleepy, I guess.” 

“Me too,” he said, and his laugh sounded a little forced.

They stood side by side, taking turns with cereal and milk. She watched as she shook the bunches of oats into his bowl - his first helping, at least. Steven tended to load the bowl high with milk and add cereal in little batches until it was all gone.

She, on the other hand, carefully eyeballed a cup of cereal before adding the milk, a subject of many playful debates. There was no argument today, of course, not even a lighthearted funny one, but she was sure the fight would come around again some other time. She could see it in his suspicious eyeing of her pouring.

But as they sat side by side at the breakfast table, there wasn’t much of their usual chatter. Her brain churned as she scooped mouthful after mouthful of crunch into her mouth. Did all the weirdness mean he had the same dream? Or was it just because he had kissed her last night and she had kissed him last week, and that was awkward enough on its own?

She barely held back a painful groan. Why couldn’t you solve relationship problems with something she was good at? Like swords?

“Oh, Steven. Connie! Good to have you two in the same place,” Pearl asked, following the heavenly sound of her bedroom door opening. She smiled as she strolled to the breakfast table and softly ruffled Steven’s hair. “There’s been another corrupted gem sighting. Would you like to handle it?”

Oh. That’d work.

Connie grinned with relief and heard Steven’s words coming in sync with her own: “Yes, please!”


	10. Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connie and Steven fight a corrupted gem in the woods, and then Connie has a talk with Pearl about the fallout.
> 
> TW: canon typical violence, mention of gore which does not occur

One of Connie’s earliest memories was holding her father’s hand as they walked through the greenery of the midwest. She remembered him giving her a nature book, a guide to edible and inedible plants, which would constantly be found in her hands during her tenth year as she became obsessed with survivalism.

It had become a passion. Connie had spent all her time alone in the woods, committing plants to memory, building shelters and forts, and becoming a fiercely independent little thing as some small, quiet part of her became convinced it would be necessary. Although she knew the idea was silly now, she’d been fairly convinced at ten that she could be dropped off in the middle of the woods and make her own way home.

In these woods, in this year, the corrupted nephrite shrieked. Its long, bulbous tail swung out in helpless, mindless rage. With a crack louder than thunder, it hit a tree which quaked and shattered beneath its might. Wood crashed into the forest floor, and a wave of broadleaves twisted down onto their heads. Connie held a leaf between her fingers mournfully and murmured, “Poor oak. You were growing for so long.”

Her navel buzzed as Steven summoned his shield. When she looked at him, he was grinning, as excited as ever. “Ready to fuse?”

What a luxury that was for them, that fusion was a choice as easy as breathing. Other gems needed warm-up or dances, or needed the fierce pressure of a shared goal. But Stevonnie was as natural as breathing, as easy as consent. They embodied the best of them, and they could be there with the softest touch.

And perhaps she wanted to fuse, but what she needed was to try out her powers. Connie reached into her core and summoned her sword. She shook her head as she glared down at the monster, and her fingers tightened around the pommel. “I have these powers, I want to try them out.”

He frowned slightly. “Are you sure? It’s safer togeth-”

“Move!” she cried.

The nephrite barreled forward - terrifyingly fast with its many clacking legs. Steven went to the left, and she went to the right so that they flanked the beast. Acid dripped as it whined and screamed, a constant scratchy sound that grated at her ears.

The green liquid poured from its jowls, down into the underbrush. Pools of it hissed as it burned through grass, and the smell of mustard rose from the ground. She dodged the puddles as she rushed forward, her footwork light and careful. Connie was human, and Connie was fragile. Dodging was her greatest skill, and she utilized it as she danced through legs and sliced a few of them cleanly off, leaving them twitching in the dirt for a few moments before vanishing into a puff of smoke.

It shrieked again, louder as it filled with more rage and pain. The Nephrite wheeled on her, jaws snapping, throat snarling, acid flying around her - only to have Steven’s shield slam into its head and knock it sideways.

It reeled back before spinning on Steven, diving forward so its mouth clamped over the next shield he summoned. The gaping maw pressed down on him, shaking as it was too far gone to even think of spitting him out or trying to find a way around.

For a moment, Connie felt the smallest hit to her pride about it. Her head filled with the frustrating idea that maybe Steven thought she couldn’t do it on her own. Just because he was some sort of demigod and she was a human meant that she _needed_ him, that she had to have his magic and his shield to do anything at all.

She plunged forward. Her sword sunk deep into its side and the mouth spun around to her once again. Connie skidded beneath the body to dodge - a risky move - and the risk nearly proved deadly as the beast tried to slam her into the dirt and slowly drying pools of acid.

Well, so much for going for the undercarriage. She barely scrambled out in time, and then the tail came forward in another swing. Steven screamed her name, as if she couldn’t see, as if she didn’t _know_ , and she leapt over it. She bristled at the call, because she didn’t _need_ him and could he give up the hero complex for a _second?_

And when she landed, her feet were thoroughly rooted to the spot with stubbornness.

There was a word on her lips that her mother would loathe as the corrupted nephrite twisted again, a deadly snake with burning mandibles heading for her. She was rooted, so there was no dodging, no running. She braced and swung her sword up, and hoped her aim was true.

Fire scorched up her forearms as the black maw loomed around her. The beast itself was frozen - impaled and whimpering around her blade. Everything hung suspended as the gem calculated the damage that was done to its form. Too much lost data, too many problems. A reset was in order. It shuddered from head to toe and poofed.

She hissed in pain as her sword vanished with the gem. Steven was by her side in no time, stopping only to bubble away the corrupted gem so fast and so easy she didn’t even see him do it. He was better at this than her. More practiced. More able. More powerful than she could ever hope to be.

Steven whispered her name with terror. Before she could stop him, he kissed away the burns on her right arm, the acid vanishing into nothing with his delicate touch. Beneath, his healing left her arm unscarred and unharmed, skin smooth as if the pain had never touched her at all.

But something was different. Acid that strong should have gone through her skin faster than that. There was warmth against her belly, gem magic, and she was certain she must have been more durable for it. The acid eating at her arm burned horribly, but the skin was not melting down to bone, which meant there was plenty of time.

“Wait,” Connie said. The fist he fixed clenched against the pain, the other arm trembling with it. “Tell me how to heal it.”

“Later.” 

Time slowed as her temper flared, thoughts racing in the instant it took for him to start raising her arm to his face, and for her to pull them away. Why? Did he think in the time it took her to understand her arm would get burned through? Did he think she wouldn’t be able to do that at all, all violence and cruelty to his kindness? Was he so sure it was like the bubble - that she was too terrified and cowardly to properly protect or fix _any_ thing?

“Teach me,” she insisted.

“Connie, you’re hurt!” Steven glared at her, his eyes dark and cheeks flushed with anger. “How are you going to focus if your arm is melting?”

She ignored that, glaring down at the burning skin. It was spasming beyond her control, muscles contracting and releasing instinctually against the pain. Why wait? Her head was clear. She was always the brains, wasn’t she? What was a little burning to a mind as sharp as hers?

“Love, right?” she gritted out.

That was how he healed. Steven loved, fully and shamelessly, and whatever he loved could be set right with a kiss. Love was the solution, and she was more than capable of that. What human wasn’t? She tried to feel love as she kissed her arm, but the burning got all the worse as acid went from skin to skin, covering her lips with a sharp pain. She cried out as the more sensitive skin there was set on fire, a thousand paper cuts across her mouth.

Steven grabbed her arm back, his lips skimming the skin to heal, brusque and efficient. There was never romance in that healing, because he was always far too concerned with the ache of the person. There was another kiss to her lips, and though this one lingered longer than before, there was no remembering or savoring anything other than the removal of the horrible pain on her mouth.

She panted, pain-free hand over her pain-free lips, and was welcomed to an earful of Steven’s scolding. He was standing, throwing his arms up as he stormed about the small clearing. “Are you crazy? We don’t even know if you can heal!” He wheeled on her, just as the monster had, but there was only worry in his eyes. “Connie, you can’t do that! You don’t-”

“I could’ve figured it out,” she blurted. “You could have let me try one more time.”

Steven gawked at her. He stumbled a step back, then forward, coming to kneel in front of her. He whispered, brows furrowed together. “You don’t mean it. You wanted me to just sit here and watch acid eat up your arms?”

She closed her eyes. Oh, so _there_ was the humiliation she had so keenly yearned for that morning. She was stupid. She was silly. She was being a burden and a trouble on him, when all he had wanted was the reasonable thing to do. Practice could wait for bruises or small cuts, not for a life-threatening wound. Sturdiness be damned, acid was not a thing to practice with.

“You’re right. I…” Connie searched for a good explanation, but none came. She sighed instead. “Thank you, Steven. I want to be able to heal myself, but now’s not the time to figure out if I can.”

He laughed a little, and even if she couldn’t see the deep lines of fear on his face she could hear it in his voice. “Yeah, I can get that. It’s a really good power. But, I mean, it took me years to get good at healing myself.”

He reached out to take her hands, to squeeze them softly. “For people like us, it’s so much harder to love ourselves than the people around us. It takes practice to get the feeling right, and you’re not gonna be able to do it after you just made a big mistake.”

“Right,” she said, putting a hand to her temple. Mistake. Big mistake. Gees, she had, hadn’t she? More than one. She was hardly at the top of her game combat-wise, not with her nightmares interrupting her sleep. “Yeah. Of course. I don’t know what I was even thinking. I’m sorry. I just…”

“And we should have been Stevonnie,” Steven continued with a little laugh. “It was stupid not to fuse. We had the chance. We should have done it.”

There was bristling again. Temper. Mistakes she could concede, errors in footwork and movement, but _she_ was fine as _she_. There was no reason she _had_ to be they, not then and not ever if she didn’t want. Her eyes narrowed in a glare. “I handled it fine. I wanted to test my powers and-”

“You got all beat up!” Steven scoffed as she tugged her hands back. “You didn’t handle it! And if you wanted to test stuff, we could have tested it as Stevonnie.”

“I didn’t want to test _Stevonnie_!” She was bordering on shouting at him now. “I wanted to test _me!_ _My_ powers! Not _us!”_

He groaned, tugging at his hair. “I’m not saying that! I’m saying that maybe, when there’s a big monster trying to kill us, it’s better to be _safe_! That when we need to be Stevon-”

She laughed, feeling oddly hysterical as she shoved to her feet and glared down at him. “ _Need_ , huh? We don’t ever _need_ to fuse, thanks. If I say I didn’t want to be Stevonnie, that’s the end of it! I wanted to do it on my own!”

“You weren’t on your own,” he muttered, looking away. “We just weren’t together.”

“Whatever, Steven. It’s mission accomplished.”

Connie moved through the trees and assumed he was behind her. She didn’t care much if he was. They were in the northwest, and she knew these woods like the back of her hand. She could live here months if she wanted, maybe even years. She could do that with her own brain and hands, magic or no.

She was thoroughly within the range of Steven’s gem to Beach City. If she wanted, she could make a portal. She could slip through a crack in the world and take herself back to her bedroom. No warp pad. No gem. No Steven.

Connie could find her own way home.

* * *

And she did go home, finding herself making excuses to avoid Steven for the rest of the day. Sorry, no time to talk about her feelings, or what _that_ forest tantrum had been about, not one bit. She had to study, and that excuse never failed her - mostly because Steven didn’t know enough about school to call her out.

But, by the evening, guilt was already creeping up on her. She had lost her best friend once to her own silence. Admittedly, even now she couldn’t entirely hold it against herself for growing quiet - not when she was a kid and scared and confused. But that hadn’t made it the right thing to do then, and she knew full well it wasn’t the right thing to do now.

But when she came to find Steven it was Pearl who greeted her on the front porch. Her teacher leaned over the railing with a casual smile that was becoming more familiar now that the worst of things were behind them. “I heard you had a rough day. Want to talk about it?”

Connie winced. “I should really talk to Steven.”

“He’s a little busy.” Pearl smiled and waved her inside. “Come with me. I’ll teach you to use a warp pad.”

 _Busy_. Was that the best excuse? It felt more like Pearl was a guard, and she’d made Steven mad at her. She guessed he had a right to be mad. She was stupid, but it had still felt like pressure, and all that worry was always building, always bubbling, so that by the time she was standing on the warp she was babbling, “It probably won’t even work. I probably don’t have any more powers. Everything else I tried failed.”

Pearl ignored that. “The pad in the woods. Think of it, want to go there. The pad will respond to the data shift in your gem.”

Connie closed her eyes, trying to get past her own grumpiness and get her mind on the right path. It was easier when Pearl was demanding. She’d followed Pearl’s instructions without question for years, and the crisp tone had her back to being the ever-dedicated student.

There was the familiar flicker of something at her navel, then bright blue light shining through her eyelids. A peak of her eyes found that they were indeed in the woods, about fifteen minutes from Steven’s house. Not a monumental leap, but by no means walkable.

“Oh, would you look at that,” Pearl said with a grin. “A new power. Things are changing every day.”

Connie bit back a snappish response, but no niceties came to her tongue to replace it. Instead, she only managed a curt, “Yes ma’am.”

Pearl stepped off the pad and into the forest. The same forest, technically, that Connie had been in that morning - though the forest stretched for miles and miles and they were nowhere near the same spot. Still, the comforting feeling she normally got from the greenery only pressed in around her as she followed behind.

“Humans are very malleable, you know,” she remarked, and Connie felt her face scrunch up with confusion at the odd choice of topic. “Shapeshifting is tricky for gems. Despite its utility, I’m sure you’ve noticed it’s a rare trait for a gem to change like that.”

“Amethyst _is_ something special,” she agreed. “But why are you bringing it up?”

“I was wondering if you’d tried it yet.”

Connie shook her head. With a sigh and a snort. Oh, so this was what it was all about. More magic, more powers, more _training_. She supposed that was a relief compared to Pearl telling her off for the incident. 

“I didn’t have a bit of time to practice with Steven ditching me,” she said, and as Pearl startled from the phrasing, Connie scrambled to reel it back in. “I mean, with him leaving for work. That wasn’t the right phrase. I’m…”

None of that was working. She forced it back to magic. “You were saying I should try shapeshifitng. How does that work?”

Pearl took Connie’s hand and pressed her thumb into the palm, the pressure uncomfortable. Her eyebrows were still wrinkled, deep lines of worry still on her face, but she remained Connie’s steady professor nevertheless. 

“Humans are different from gems. Your body _is_ you and it has done nothing but change since you’ve been in it.” She smiled, face smoothing out as she squeezed Connie’s hand. “Unlike me, your natural state is to change, just like Steven’s. All you’re asking it to do is change the way you want it.

“You know how to dodge, Connie. Dodge.”

She did know. Every fight she had ever been in was predicated on a single, pulsing thought - don’t get hit. Her body might have been adaptable, but it wasn’t sturdy, and there was no adapting to a cracked skull. She’d failed at that today, become rooted to the spot when motion had always been her greatest strength. 

The pressure on her palm stung now, nothing unbearable, but consistent and discomforting. Pearl would not break her hand of course, but years of training made it easy to act as if her hand would be broken. Life and death and the clang of swords filled her ears and she imagined Pearl’s fingers as the point of a sword. Her hand couldn’t move, but she _must_ dodge.

A hole appeared, simple and painless. Pale fingers slipped through her hand, as if bone and muscle and skin had never been there are all, then retreated. Pearl laughed, though Connie couldn’t manage when there was a _hole_ in her hand, and she sealed it up before the horror could properly settle.

“Well. Even better than I expected.” Her eyebrows climbed high with the shock of it.

Connie wiggled her fingers, which appeared in working order, thank the stars. Her voice was tense still. “If magic is all about willpower and emotional control, of course it took Steven a while when he was twelve.”

She shoved her hands in her pockets so she didn’t have to think of them, but that left her looking at the scenery, and with the very uncomfortable memory that stubbornness was the very thing that had nearly gotten her killed that morning.

Steven’s presence loomed large in her mind, and she shook her head. “But even then, it feels like Steven mastered every power in eleven minutes flat. If he was my age when he was learning, he’d nail it just as fast. _Faster_ , even.”

Pearl put a comforting hand on her shoulder, but it only made her bristle. “Shapeshifting requires wit. Creativity. It’s a power for someone clever. If you practice, you could do better than him.”

“It’s not about the powers!” Connie snapped. She stumbled back a step or two, shaking her head as the gem dared to take another step closer. “Pearl, I’m _tied_ to Steven! No matter what I do with these powers, they come from him. I have to rely on him.”

She looked surprised. “Haven’t you two always relied on each other?”

“Yeah, but not like this!” Connie cried. She tugged her hands up out of her pockets, throwing them up over her head. “I want to be with him all the time! I go crazy missing him! I _need_ him to be there.”

Pearl smiled. “And he _is_.”

“For now.” Again Pearl’s eyes went round and frightened, and Connie felt the guilt come up. “I’m sorry! I don’t mean that. I just… the powers are nice, but I don’t want the downsides.”

“That’s not how things work,” Pearl said gently.

“Why not?”

It was a childish, petty thing to say, but even then Pearl came closer, put her hand on Connie’s shoulder once again as she tried for gentleness. But there was a stiffness to her teacher, a tenseness to her body that gave away a building frustration. She could see lines coming beneath her eyebrows, around her nose as she held back anger. “I know what it’s like to think this way. You’re like me. You want to hide away the bad parts, get rid of them, but that isn’t how it works.”

“How _does_ it work, then?” Connie demanded, her eyes narrowed. “You’re dealt a bad hand and you say thank you and you just have a bad hand forever? I’m not going to spend my life following along after someone just because-”

But Pearl cut her off, fists balled up at her sides as she finally lost her temper. A nerve had been touched, and the rawness came out in her voice. “These things aren’t black and white, and if you’d think about that for a second you’d stop acting like an inconvenience is an insurmountable obstacle, Connie!”

They stared for a moment, both breathing hard as if they’d taken swords instead of opinions with them that day, but no more words came. Neither of them were much good at arguing, least of all with each other. The wrong word, the wrong tone, made it all too easy for both of them to shut down.

Pearl spoke first, her voice softer. “I’m just trying to say that you’ve been given a gift. If you would stop focusing on the bad, you might be able to see the good that comes with it. Steven’s been getting new powers too, you know.”

“He hasn’t told me about them,” Connie said, and she stilled her voice into smoothness rather than let the hurricane of feelings tumble out.

And then it was back to instructions. _Close your eyes_ and _meditate_ and _focus on your gem_ , and she barely resisted the urge scoff about how she didn’t actually have a gem, and instead just mumbled a “yes ma’am” like always as she followed the instructions.

She was good at meditation now. The sounds of the forest blew away, replaced with an awareness of herself - the beat of her heart, the feeling of her breath, the slight tension in her belly where magic sprung. It was always there, softly buzzing and doing who knew what. Keeping her sturdy, she supposed.

“Find Steven.”

Her instructor demanded and on instinct, Connie followed. She thought of him, and the moment she did, her hand came up with her finger-pointing. Steven was miles away, but as surely as she knew her feet were beneath her she knew that was the straight line to her best friend. Her eyes blinked open and she stared at her pointed finger.

“Steven thinks he can feel you,” Pearl said, her own eyes following the line of Connie’s hand. “Maybe more than just where you are. He might be getting some of your feelings, but it’s too faint to tell.”

She slid her hands back into her pockets. “Shouldn’t I be hearing this from him?”

“Maybe,” she conceded. “And Garnet would understand all this better than me. It’s a kind of fusion.”

Connie didn’t have words for that. She was quiet, her eyes flicking back to the warp and wondering if she could be anywhere but there, do anything but hear the emotional speech she was sure Pearl was about to drop on her. She could only pray it wouldn’t too heavily feature Rose and slide into awkward territory.

“I know what it’s like to love someone who feels more important than you, and maybe that’s more useful.” She took her hands, and Connie tried not to let the dread show on her face as she was filled with the terrifying possibility that Pearl was in fact going to give her romantic advice that featured Rose Quartz. 

She continued, “Connie, you have magic from one of the strongest gems of all. It wasn’t forced on you. You get that choice. But you have to pay the very, very small price of needing someone who has more power than you, even if it’s only in this one way.”

Connie groaned. “Yeah, but if it’s all about relationships and love, shouldn’t it be all upsides? Isn’t that what love is?”

In the full minute it took for the gem to stop laughing, Connie mentally agreed that it _was_ a very stupid question - especially with the living proof right in front of her. So stupid, in fact. She let out a small laugh herself. “I’m sorry. Everything lately has been so miserable.”

“Oh, yes. I’ve heard it’s _torture,”_ she said, wiping away a tear of mirth as she stood tall once again. “Every relationship strikes its own balance. Find a way to rely on him without being overly dependent.”

“Mmm,” Connie agreed flatly.

“Just think of the upsides!” Pearl insisted, taking her hands with a gentle squeeze and a bit of a shake. “For heaven’s sake, I miss Steven all the time and I don’t even get anything out of it!”

Connie promised to try, and she did. She _really_ did. She could teleport. She could use the warps. She could get stuck. She could pull a sword. She could, she could, she could...

And yet she found herself glaring at her ceiling that night, her mind whirling over the couple of things she _couldn’t_. She was consumed by the idea that there must be a way to cut herself free without losing any power or closeness or love. Surely, _surely_ she could find a way around?

All her longing turned up no results. All her desperate attempts to focus on the clear skies fell short when they were just for her, and not in the name of cheering up Steven. As she drifted off to sleep, she realized that avoiding her not-quite-boyfriend and his couch meant she didn’t get a goodnight kiss either.

No matter what she chose, it was downside after downside after downside.


	11. Connection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connie has her worst nightmare yet, and talks to Steven.

The first thing she felt was her feet against cold, too-slick tile. Oak trees grew above her head, crowded around her, dark and still. Pink string dripped from every branch like a silken spider web, and she was caught once again by the snare.

Steven’s pink half sat on a pink throne in the forest, and he was empty and calm and distant. Her pink half was there too, draped across his lap like a blanket, eyes closed as his hand softly played through her hair. It was strange to see it that way, her head against his thighs instead of the other way around.

A pang of jealousy twisted her gut at her double’s serenity. Her feet slid against the tile again, but there wasn’t enough friction. She moved nowhere, nearly suspended in the air, and almost choked from the cord twisted around her neck.

It wasn’t fair that her other self could be so calm there. It had never felt right to put her head in Steven’s lap, like an indulgence in a greed she couldn’t bring herself to express. Steven cuddled, Steven clung, and she received and returned the touch he established.

The pink Connie let her eyes open to slits, and Connie herself could see the pink and white as clearly as if she was right in front of her. Glowing lips twisted into a smirk. 

“Welcome back, greedy. How many people have to tell you that _you’re_ the problem before it finally sinks in?”

There was a way out of this. She tugged on a wrist-thick cord, weaving her hands through the tangled mess and dragging the binding to her mouth. Her lip curled back, teeth bared, and she snapped around the bitter rope.

Everything was pain.

Not in her body, but in her heart, her mind. She was a child on the beach, a ruined ship jutting up from the sand - the aftermath to a battle she never got to see. Steven was gone, hiding, done with her for the first time. The world had turned scary and he was the protector and she was the protected and the split in their worlds loomed below her feet like a canyon.

Her eyes burned and she tried to breathe, but her throat and mouth were full. She coughed, gasped, and oak leaves scraped across her tongue on their way out into the air.

The cord sat, half severed by her teeth in her hands, and it bled green acid. It flowed over her mouth, across her hands, dripped slowly down her arms with a sizzling pain she couldn’t feel. The tangy scent of scorched wild mustard filled her nose.

“Hurts, doesn’t it?” her own voice asked coldly.

She tried to speak, but no sound would come. The acid was thick like blood, coating her tongue and teeth and lips and hands, and she had nothing to heal it away. She swallowed the poison and felt the thickness creep along her throat to her belly, and revulsion and disgust nearly brought it back up.

Her other self grabbed her chin, forcing their eyes to meet. She was all ice, frozen anger, as she said, “If Mom told you breakfast was on the counter you’d drink pipe cleaner instead of orange juice and pat yourself on the back for getting around a rule. _That’s_ who you are.”

She tried to pull away, but pink fingers held her tight. No dodging, no moving, no other defense or attack save her facial expression - so Connie smirked. “Better than being someone’s lapdog, don’tchya think?”

“We have _everything_ _,”_ the pink girl whispered. “We have magic. We have love. We have _Steven._ Why do you want to throw it all away?”

“I don’t want it like this!” Connie cried, holding out the burning rope. “Can you see how I’m tied up? Don’t you _care_?”

Her face was dropped, and the pink Connie slid her hand across the rope. It mended as she moved, woven again from its tattered remains. The clone snapped, “Isn’t this what you always wanted? It’s magic. It’s freedom.”

“As long as we’re within five hundred miles of him,” Connie muttered.

“Because zero was better?” Her clone clenched her fists with a furious shriek. “Someone paid for your lunch and you’re throwing a tantrum because they didn’t throw in dinner! Are you _ever_ satisfied?”

She tried to swing her arms, but they were stuck still, stuck more with every moment as ropes crept across her chest like snakes. “I just want something I can rely on! Something mine! What’s wrong with that?”

“It should be close enough! So what if we have to see him a lot? So what if we go crazy missing him? We can still follow our own path.” Her clone threw up her hands in frustration. “Why are you like this? Why can’t you be happy with _anything_ ? Why do you have to do _everything_ by yourse-?”

Connie screamed over her own voice, letting the rage out until the other one fell silent. She shook her head furiously. “I won’t get tied down! I won’t get tied up! I’m not getting bubbled up and locked away just hoping that he’s not going to leave again! I’m not stupid like _you_!”

“Thiiiiis isn’t Fish Stew Pizza,” Steven said uncertainly, walking through a door that had never been there and always was. He eyed his pink self as the other boy came to stand beside him. “Uh, hello?”

The pink boy said, “You’re me.”

“Mmm, no. You’re made up.” Steven raised his eyebrow and gently pushed on the clone’s chest so he shuffled a step back. “You’re also really close and it’s kind of weird. I…”

His eyes made their way around the room, landing on her. Connie reached for him, her face twisted up with worry as she tried to pull her way out. Her voice was rough as she gasped, “You have to get me out.”

Steven ran to her side, and his hands fumbled as she tried to untangle her. After a moment, he cleared his throat and mumbled, “Uh, don’t freak out, but the ropes go _inside_ you. Like, under your skin.”

She shuddered with horror, and as she looked down to the hand he’d managed to untangle, she could see how threads melded seamlessly into her skin. She looked away, cringing as she explained, “I can break free if I bite through, but it’s all full of…”

Steven’s fingers traced across the green still on her arms. “Oh.”

“It’ll be worse if he does it,” the pink Connie said, arms crossed as she stood back.

She seemed neutered with Steven here, as was his pink self. The shifting logic of dreams was locked in with Steven’s dreamwalking, consistent and unmoving now that his magic was in play. Connie could think clearly, which was exactly how her mind managed to race with shame and fear and desperate, _desperate_ hope that he hadn’t heard much.

“Dreams don’t hurt,” Steven said patiently. “Not even with my magic.”

He went for a thick cord just like she had, and muttered quietly, “Please don’t be too gross” right before he ripped a chunk free with his teeth - it was so effortless, so easy, like pulling meat from a tender rib.

And _everything_ was unbearable pain.

Nothing physical, but she curled in on herself with a hoarse scream like someone had cut her through the belly. She was nauseous. She was scared. She was alone. She was worthless. It _hurt._

She was treading freezing ocean water, staring up at him as he said _I love you_ and walked into a spaceship. She was too slow to go to the Zoo, and Peridot and Lapis were unamused by her humanity. She was curled up in her kitchen, listening to Steven’s voicemail insisting she stay far, far away.

A sob wracked through her chest and she was too pathetic to stand it. Instead of the babyish squeak of his young voice, she instead heard the dulcet tones he’d grown into. _I don’t want to be friends anymore_ , he whispered in her mind. _I don’t want_ you _anymore._

“Stop, Steven, please.”

He had dropped the rope the moment she screamed, and now he hugged her through the web. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay, I’m not gonna do that anymore.” He stroked her hair as he crooned, “It’s not supposed to feel like that, okay? We’re gonna do something else.”

She clung to him, tears sinking into his shirt as she hid her face against his neck. His hands on her back were comforting, but all she felt was small and stupid and alone - a greedy child demanding dessert when she was already overstuffed from dinner.

“What’d you feel?” Steven asked.

“Stay. _Please,”_ she begged because she couldn’t stand to answer. She tried to breathe him in but there was nothing but the smell of mustard. She tried to feel him, but the coil of ropes would shift and all she could focus on was the trap.

He’d never helped her with a nightmare before, but it still felt like too much to ask as she wept against him. “Don’t leave me.”

“Never,” he promised. “It’s okay. I’ll be here until you wake up. It’s gonna be okay.”

* * *

Connie awoke in her own bed with a sinking feeling in her gut. There was no doubt that Steven had seen her odd nightmare this time. He had dreamwalked, both of them completely lucid in the overgrown throne room. She still couldn’t place why she was having awful dreams.

Maybe Steven could, though. Maybe he’d discovered some dark secret or moral failing that was going to drive him away. Again. She stared up at her ceiling, her fingers resting on the fake gem at her belly, and wondered if she was ever going to be good enough to keep him around. She wondered if it was possible to be good enough at all.

It seemed like she could do everything right and always end up no better than where she started.

She rolled on her side and skimmed her fingers through the air, and the world wobbled gently as her powers probed at the fabric of the universe. She snagged her phone from her side table, because responsibility always came first, then took a deep breath and rolled forward. She shoved herself through fragile wax and tumbling through her liquid portal.

Connie landed on Steven’s bed, and found him already sitting up to face her. Was that more magic stuff? Had he sensed he coming? Had he woken up when she did? Or was it all coincidence? She hesitated there, wondering if he was going to ask her to leave, and the thought of it made her heart clench as she flashed back to her awful dream. She could see his teeth sinking into the cord.

But Steven extended his hand and whispered, “Come here. We can talk about it.”

He had offered her too much comfort already. She wasn’t sure if she could pay it back. But fragile and raw from a nightmare, she couldn’t help but crawl up to his side and put her head on his shoulder. 

It was a comforting place to be - very familiar as his arms encircled her, pulled her closer. Steven was almost searching for warmth and touch and tenderness, and she was nearly always willing to give it. Though, right now, it felt like taking. She vanished into his arms, hiding her face against his chest.

“I didn’t mean to bother you,” she said softly.

“You didn’t bother me.” His hand stroked her hair. “We can talk about your dream, or we can just cuddle if you need me to be here for a little while. Whatever you need.”

She gave a short laugh. “You hugged me all night.”

“You’ve done it for me,” he murmured. “It’s okay.”

Her hand rested on his belly, his sleeping shirt wrinkled up from his motions. She knew her hand was inches from his gem, and though she’d touched it before there was something different about it now - a missing piece, a dropped connection.

“Can I touch your gem while we talk?” she asked, and though he nodded, she explained, “You said that it’s really nice and comforting when I touch it, and I want to make up for what you saw.”

“You don’t have to make up for bad dreams, silly.” He giggled, but leaned back a little to lift his shirt. “But I’d like it. It’s really nice.”

Like a magnet, her fingers were drawn to the smooth surface of his gem, and he sighed in response. Steven had once described the feeling as an _I love you_ with fingers, and she savored that, to be able to promise her love even as her words betrayed the worst of her.

Still, she couldn’t stand to fight with him, even for a day.

“Steven, I… I’m afraid this is all too much and I’m not ready for it. I know that we’ve always been best friends and I’m closer to you than anyone else. But…”

His gem was warm, body temperature glass under her fingertips. Connie traced the outside of the diamond, where smooth turned to soft. All of it was comforting now - more so than it had ever been before, as contact with his gem and with him felt like home.

Without thinking, she let her hand explore the rest of his belly, splayed fingers dancing along his hips and swirling up to his ribs. There wasn’t heat in it, no longing, just the quiet confession of her sins and a fumbling attempt to make up for them.

“I know that being on your gem like this is a commitment, but I didn’t even think of it, I guess. And maybe I should have. Maybe I’m not ready.”

Her fingers slowly swept back up to the gem on his belly, tapping once with her nail She let her eyes meet his, prepared for disappointment or misery, and only found him listening intently. 

“I’m supposed to be more knowledgeable about this stuff, I guess. I’m the smart one.” She sighed and let her head fall to his collarbone. “But I don’t know how to make everything fair and equal, especially with everything we’ve been through. I don’t know what I’m supposed to give up to make this work.”

She felt his chuckle against her own chest. “Who said it was supposed to be equal?”

She drew back slightly to find Steven’s hand reaching closer. Her face scrunched with confusion, only to have her breath catch as he tugged up her shirt. He hesitated as her waist was exposed to cool air, as they both suddenly realized the awkward intimacy of the gems’ location.

He swallowed, fingers frozen. “S-sorry. I was wondering since you sort of have a gem now, if it’ll feel the same way for you. I should’ve asked.”

“You are asking,” she laughed weakly. It seemed unlikely that she could get anything from it. The gem on her stomach wasn’t anything real - just a cosmetic quirk that glowed and buzzed as she stole from him. Still, she itched to find out, and mumbled, “We can try it.”

His fingers fell to her belly and she couldn’t help but gasp at the strangeness of it. It was a good kind of strange, but it was not the quiet intimacy she had expected. The moment his hand rested there, it felt as if he held all of her in his hand, and she somehow felt closer though they were already wrapped in each other’s arms. 

She knew him. She _felt_ him. The parts that loved her so dearly were immediately clear, his emotions as plain to her as her own. He trusted her and she _had_ to trust him. She could feel the meaning behind every word he spoke.

“I’m not great at all this stuff either.” He smiled. “I mean, you’d think I’d be, I guess, because I helped out everyone else. But I didn’t have a lot of friends growing up. I know you didn’t either. And I know it’s scary to gamble what we have.”

His thumb circled her navel, and though there was a mounting thrill at the intimate touch, the thing that made her gasp was the avalanche of emotion. He felt everything so deeply, so that her own emotions felt like a ditch on the side of the road compared to the ravine of his. He _loved_ her, and her own love felt pitifully small in comparison.

“I don’t think I explained what this felt like really well,” he said as she clutched the hem of his pajama top tight.

“It’s _I love you_ ,” she said.

He shook his head. “More than that. I’ve always been committed to you.” He paused there, and his fingers stilled, just for a second, his palm pressed against her navel and fingers spread wide. “I’d do _anything_ for you. I had a really busy life, Connie, and you helped me through all of it. I don’t think I’d be here if it wasn’t for you.”

She laughed, but nerves were building in her throat. “There were probably some parts that would have been a lot harder, but I don’t think-”

“I needed you,” he said shortly. “I couldn’t have done it without you. I know you gave up a lot to be there. If we were keeping score, I think you’re ahead. But we’re _not_ keeping score.”

She stumbled for an argument, for some kind of response, but it was hard when he had her soul in his hand and she could feel his heart beating against her own. Her eyes closed, her brows wrinkled together as she struggled to process it all. “That’s different. The world was in danger.”

“My problems included saving the world. You still helped me with _my_ problems, you know. No one was making you stick around.” She felt his lips brush her cheek, and her stomach twitched beneath his fingers from the thrill of it. “And I’m really tired of my problems. So maybe I can put my stuff on hold, finally take a break, and maybe it can just be my job to support you for a while.”

She was so close to him she could feel his breath on her face, and her voice came out as a croak. “I don’t know if that’s fair.”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “It seems fair to me. You take turns. Like how your parents take care of you when you’re young and you take care of them when they’re old. QPRs work like that too. Siblings. Friends. Everything. You just take care of each other and you don’t keep a perfect score. You just… you work it out, I guess.”

“Sounds hard,” she mumbled.

His hand left her gem, moving off to her hip. With the magic feeling gone, there was only the sudden intimacy of his touch, and the whole world shifted. She was side by side with Steven in his bed, and her shirt was pushed up, and his hand was warm and soft as he made patterns on her skin.

Heat, heat, heat. She thought she was aware of her hand in his. That was nothing. His hands scorched over the untouched skin of her stomach, a completely new sensation that made her heart double pace in her chest, that made her stomach bunch up.

Had she done that to him? That wasn’t fair of her either. Was it a tease if she hadn’t thought about it? If she hadn’t realized?

“Romantic relationships are like that too,” he murmured, as if nothing had changed at all as his fingers swept along her ribs. “And other stuff like it. No matter what we are, I’m here. Not in a lock-you-up kind of way. You know, just... I need to be needed.”

He laughed quietly, and there was the change. His voice rasped, and as he looked up his eyes were dangerously dark. “So, um, you don’t need to be scared of needing me. Because I really, really need you. All the time.” Steven’s voice dropped to a whisper, his fingers resting on her hips as ten points of fire. “And I’d really like it if you needed me too.”

Her throat ached from the tightness and the heat rolling in her belly. She tried to swallow but the burning stayed where it was. She somehow forced her fingers to uncurl from his shirt.

“I think we should stop,” Connie said quietly, and cursed her voice for trembling. “I think this might not mean what you think it does. You know, being raised with gems and everything. A-and not going to school, or having a lot of friends. It’s...”

Frustration flicked across his face. His temper rarely showed with her, but she could see it now, practically _felt_ it as his voice rumbled against her. “Connie, I’m almost nineteen. I don’t need you treating me like a stupid kid like everyone else does.”

Her heart slammed against her ribs as the implication quickly set in. In an instant, she was fumbling for an apology. “I’m sorry. I just meant… you’re not stupid. Or a kid. I just… I’m usually the one moving first. I-I guess not always, but I think most of the time. And I’m the one with human parents and human friends and-”

“I have Lars and Sadie and the cool kids and my dad,” Steven said firmly. “Do you really think I’m… When all I ever wanted was someone to love, do you really think I haven’t been trying to learn how it works?”

“No.” Her fingers came up to his cheek, and she tried to still the trembling. “I’m sorry. That’s not who I am. That’s not who _we_ are. I didn’t mean to make you feel stupid.”

“It’s okay. I know what you mean.” His eyes darted down to her lips, then back up to her eyes. “I, uh… I should really get better about asking about how you’re thinking, anyway.”

In the moment of timidity, she thought it was all over. And then his lips were back on hers, a fourth time. Or the first time, because this was finally more than a split second peck she couldn’t remember. This time, there was no forgetting the feel of them. Warm, smooth softness pressed over her lips, and Connie feared the heart attack she was sure was coming.

Oh, it would have been smart to leave. Connie was not the kind of silly girl who tilted her head as a boy’s lips pushed against hers. She was not someone who felt the erratic drumbeat of a boy’s heart against the palm nestled to his chest, and who sunk deeper into the moment. She was so much better than every other stupid teen who lost their head to the first rush of romantic intimacy.

Or, she would be in a minute.

Her breath shuddered against his lips, unwilling to break contact for even a moment. Every bit of her was yearning for the relationship that had crawled along painfully slowly. It felt like everyone else was kissing their best friends in middle school, doing so much more in high school, while she and Steven had struggled to move along at all.

So she could take a moment to love, couldn’t she? Just a minute. She could have him beside her secure in the knowledge that he loved her, wanted her, that at least all of that was the way it was supposed to be. The emotions were right, and the chemistry was right as a kiss on her jaw made her gasp.

His fingers were on her gem, so she could feel the depth of his desire - not sex, but confirmation of love. Confirmation of commitment. “Please tell me you need me as bad as I need you,” he said and it really sounded like a plea, all vulnerability as his adoration poured into her.

It wasn’t fair that he knew how to push her every button, even those newly installed. There was no lying now, not as her forehead rested against his. “Yes,” she whispered and she sounded reverent to her own ears. “You have no idea how badly I need you, Steven.”

“I’m here,” he whispered.

She kissed him again, and thoughts of it only being a minute faded away. Surely she could indulge this once and make out with her boyfriend? They were barely doing anything at all but the emotion stoked it high, so even their chaste kisses were enough to make her throat throb with the start of tears.

Then her phone went off in her pocket and she jerked back as if burned. Her screen lit up with a text from her mother, wondering where she had gone so early in the morning without even a hello. Connie cringed. “It’s my mom. I’ve got to go.”

She started out of bed, but his fingers laced through hers, his face desperate as he looked up at her. “Promise me we’re not done talking, Connie.”

“I promise,” she whispered. “But I… I have to go Steven. You have to let me go.”

Ever true to his word, he didn’t lock her up. His fingers slipped from hers, and she ached to race out the door. That was a kind of fleeing, she knew, and she forced herself to hold steady, to smile bright, and gesture to a plant beside his bed. “A-and you’ll have to tell me about that, sometime. Peppermint plant. I never thought you’d be the kind to grow herbs instead of flowers.”

Steven blinked, staring at the broad, rippled leaves that grew tall from his mug. His voice was baffled as he said, “I’m not.”

She looked closer at the little plant. It wasn’t in a pot, but in one of Steven’s mugs, and at the base of it a wild mess of white roots searched for soil that didn’t exist. From one of the higher leaves, a little fabric sachet dangled, a little paper tag with a mint leaf and a brand name on it. Peppermint was filling the room - a powerful, unignorable smell, and she would have noticed it when she walked in this morning.

If it had been there this morning.

And again she was tempted by magic and gems and _Steven,_ but again she forced herself out the door, through a portal, and prepared to deal with the real-world consequences of her fantasy adventures.


	12. Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connie talks to her mother.

For as long as she could remember, hospitals had been a second home for Connie. She had never had time to learn to be afraid of them, with even her earliest memories coming in the form of clinging to her mother, resting on her hip, as she swept around the halls. Her mother was always busy, so Connie had to settle for the days when she was  _ less _ busy, with just enough time for her to tag along.

Hospitals were surprisingly similar, no matter where you want. The decor might change a little, but she knew the sound of feet moving swiftly along a tile floor. She knew the beeping and buzzing of medical technology keeping everyone alive. She knew that, wherever she may wander and whatever may happen, her mother would know the place so well that Connie was never  _ really  _ on her own in the halls.

One of her earliest memories, so young that walking for a long time was a struggle, was another doctor talking to Connie, his face blurred to nearly nothing in her memory: “Are you going to be a doctor like Mommy?”

“She’ll be something good,” Priyanka said, bouncing Connie higher on her hip. Her fingers curled up in the familiar fabric of her mother’s scrubs. “As long as Doug and I can move out of this city. If we stick around here she’ll just turn into some... violent gang member.”

As Connie portaled to her mother’s hospital, she wondered if being a Crystal Gem technically counted as a violent gang member. She felt like it probably did in her mother’s eyes - maybe the other woman would grant her just a few points for being more ethical about it. Crystal Gems didn’t have successful careers, or lots of money, or a proper spouse who had a successful career and lots of money.

She moved through the familiar halls of Beach City’s hospital to her mother’s office. She’d been there often enough that nurses and doctors would wave hello as she passed, and she returned it with every name she remembered. It really was a nice place.

It had been a good move on her parents’ part. Delmarva had been the last move, in fact, so they could finally settle down. Her mother had a high paying job in an area with low cost of living. The schools were small, but of sufficient quality. The place was prone to magical shenanigans, but there was only structural damage, not human suffering.

And then Connie had gone and gotten herself into trouble anyway - lying, breaking rules, sneaking around. She felt her shoulders hunching as the niceness of the place crushed down on her - as she remembered far bigger and more prestigious hospitals her mother had worked in. She had left those places for Connie’s future.

She still was. Miserable, Connie softly knocked on her mother’s office door before slinking in. Her mother leaned over her desk, papers neatly organized but overwhelming, her old computer buzzing as it struggled on its last legs. She took in the sounds for a minute, familiar and comforting.

“Mom? Are you busy?”

She held up a finger as her eyes skimmed a document, because she was busy (like always). Connie sat in a nearby chair, weak metal and beat up fabric, and did her best to be silent as her mother finished her task. The folder closed, and Priyanka calmly turned to face her. “Would you like to have a talk about whatever’s been going on?”

It wasn’t fair to have the conversation here, in her mother’s domain, but this was always where important things happened. Her mother lived in the hospital, and Connie had to meet her there. Moments at home always felt few and far between, snatches of conversation over breakfast or dinner. She had talked to her mom so often in her office instead of at home, that the small, confining room was far more intimidating than any surgical table.

Her mother’s office was the place where most of Connie’s more awkward conversations had taken place. That was where she had confessed to forgetting assignments, misplacing important things, asking if rules could be lightened or changed. At least rule-breaking discussions typically happened at home, where her mother could scold her in private.

In her office, it was business. Rules were explained just as company policy. Forgetting papers or doing anything less than stellar on the test felt like a performance review, her mother’s cool voice asking, “And how ill you improve so this doesn’t happen in the future?” Missing objects were met with orders to find them, or to accept the loss of allowance and additional chores to pay for whatever had gone.

Emotional talks were new territory, and yet Connie still felt the cool layer of business draped over their conversation. She dropped her eyes to the easily sterilized tile and muttered, “I don’t think I have a choice.”

“We could sit here in awkward silence,” her mother suggested, prompting her to move on from the silence Connie often fell into, “but I don’t think we’ll get much done.”

Connie tensed, bracing for the explosion, and her words came out nervous and fumbling. She hated sounding so stupid, but her tongue wouldn’t work right. “Well, uh, Steven and I fused and when we unfused, I sort of got, um, attached? And now I have a few superpowers.”

Despite her fears, she only got a scoff in return. “So that’s why you’ve been sneaking over to Steven’s. Not as bad as I thought.”

She stiffened at the implications, hands clenching around the hem of her shorts. “What’s  _ that _ supposed to mean?”

“It means I don’t want to deal with your father panicking over you sharing a bed with a boy.”

“Dad?!” Connie squeaked as her mother chuckled, and nothing made sense at all. She shouldn’t have been laughing. She should be panicking - yelling, even. Wasn’t that what her mother did when confronted with magic? She couldn’t take the peace offered to her and pressed, “What about you?  _ You’re _ the strict one!”

_ “Strict, _ not stupid. I tried to give up the latter when you brought the sword home.” She snorted at the idea, and then pushed away from her desk. Her chair rolled quietly across the hard floor, and when she came close, there was a moment of hesitation before she took Connie’s hands in hers.

Priyanka had never been the best with physical affection, and Doug had only been a bit better. Touch had often been utilitarian, guiding, so that meeting Steven had been a dizzying revolution as contact became something for fun and affection. She’d begun touching her parents more, cautiously, until they had slowly begun to return the favor.

It had come quick for her father, but even now, Connie could see her mother’s effort in it all, trying her best to comfort her. “You’re in over your head with something?”

There was a relief in hearing it. She had expected scolding and worrying and that  _ look _ her mother gave that made Connie feel like she had done something especially stupid and that she should have known better. The chastising boss, the irrational, ridiculous fear that she would somehow be fired from the position of daughter.

But, this time, her mom was sweet. The rigidity seemed to be easing, and a little tension slid off her back from the care in her mother’s eyes. She managed to nod. “Yeah. I think it’s a little much right now.”

“Then I’m here,” Priyanka promised. “Talk to me.”

She squeezed her mother’s hands, more grateful than she could say for the growing physical affection. Her voice came out a little shaky, less from the problems themselves and more from the fear that any moment the support would drop away, and her mother would be back to sternness and scolding.

“I’m worried I’m doing this too fast, that I got into it at a bad time. I didn’t really think about what it meant. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“And what’s bad about it?”

The dam broke, and everything from the past few days came pouring out in an anxious mess. She confessed every power, every downside, every talk she had with Steven and the gems. She did, however, leave out every instance of kissing and strange dream, because she was sure her throat would lock up at any attempt to bring  _ that _ up right now.

By the time she was finished her mother was leaning back in her chair, wide-eyed. But her arm was still outstretched, her fingers loosely holding onto Connie’s as she let out a nervous laugh. “It sounds like you ended up in some kind of alien marriage.”

“We’re not married,” she said quickly.

“Good! I’d be very disappointed if you thought getting married before you’ve got your degree was a good idea!” She laughed again, but there was less nervousness in this one at the promise no legal documentation was involved. She rubbed the bridge of her nose for a moment, thinking hard, then sighed. “So, what’s the problem?”

She frowned. “I told you! Why does nobody get it?”

“Connie, you have chosen a  _ very _ different path,” her mother said, and Connie could suddenly see the bags under her eyes, the tired lines on her face. “I’m trying, but sometimes it’s hard to understand what you think is a good thing and what you think is a bad thing.”

She guessed that was fair enough. Most girls would probably find being involved in some kind of intergalactic war a problem all in itself. Some people would be spooked at the idea of having magic at all. She made her little meditation circle with her hands, took a deep breath, and reminded herself (as she often had to remind herself) that her mother was trying her best.

“I miss him really bad when we’re apart,” Connie explained. “I find it hard to focus on anything. By the end of the week, I can barely get any work done at all. How am I ever supposed to go to college in a different state if I need him around? And what’s he gonna do, go crazy without me while he’s helping gems?”

Priyanka scoffed, and at Connie’s scowl she winced and laughed and apologized. “I’m sorry, but it sounds like your magic millionaire boyfriend says he’s happy to take his turn supporting you. If he says he’s going to do whatever it takes to follow your dreams, that’s not a problem.”

“My magic millionaire boyfriend that you don’t like,” she retorted. “Because-”

She put her hand on Connie’s shoulder, stilling her words. “I haven’t had a problem with Steven in  _ years _ . He’s a good boy. He takes good care of you and everyone else he meets, and it’s not like the two of you are ever going to go hungry as long as he’s around. You’re in a good place.”

“It’s not a good place!” Connie said fiercely, shoving her mother’s hand off her shoulder. She clenched her fists, glaring down at her lap. “Why does everyone… Could somebody just… Everyone’s talking to me like I’m stupid or crazy or… I don’t know! But nobody gets it!”

“Gets what?” Priyanka asked.

“I know what a cage looks like!” 

She leapt to her feet, trying and failing to ignore her mother’s shocked expression as she paced. Her shoes tapped across the smooth tile, only a few steps before she had to turn again. Her arms flailed like they always did when she got angry. “I-I can see all the limits! I can see all the stuff I’m not allowed to do! I’m supposed to go back to that and… and…”

Her arms lowered to her belly as her stomach clenched and her navel buzzed. Could she feel doing Steven magic from here? She couldn’t focus on the feeling, not when a storm of them was raging inside her. “I’m seventeen. I’m supposed to go be independent and get away from your rules, and then I’m going to add a bunch of new rules?”

“I can see why that’d be hard for you,” Priyanka began, but her voice was quiet. Her mother frowned, taking a deeper breath, and though Connie could barely hear her, her mother’s voice was strained like she was shouting. “But Steven’s not-!”

Connie shook her head with a frustrated growl. No more buzzing lights, no more buzzing computer, her voice filled the room as everything grew quieter and quieter. She tried to breathe, but worry was sinking in. Was the world warping? Was she going to pass out? The sounds she associated with the hospital working and running were fading, all the sounds were fading, but she was ranting like she always did when she snapped.

“And what if I do my best and it’s not enough? You and Dad made all those sacrifices for me and I was an  _ awful _ kid who worried you anyway. I can think I’m doing everything right and it still won’t be enough!

“Maybe he’ll push me away again,” she said, her pace slowing, her eyes closing at the thought. Memories flooded in as she mumbled, “He did it the first time stuff was real and scary when Jasper came. He hid all his problems with aging on his birthday. He abandoned me to sacrifice himself to the Diamonds. He…” She stopped. “That’s not fair. I shouldn’t say that.”

She looked to her mother, and her mouth moved silently. In the void of noise Connie left behind, she suddenly realized that there wasn’t a sound at all. Hospitals were noisy places, busy places, and yet in her mother’s office the only thing that made a sound was her own voice. She looked down at her fingers, put them together and snapped, and the sound didn’t reach her own ears.

Her stomach clenched with guilt and worry, and then immediately loosened with relief. So she wasn’t about to pass out or some other disaster. Just a power - and she knew how to fix those, now. Still, a mandatory  _ shut up _ on her mother made hysteria build in her chest, so she had to swallow it down and hoped that she wouldn’t be in for an earful when the magic fell away.

“Sorry!” she gasped, looking up at her mom. “Hold on! It’s new, but I can fix it. Just hold on.”

She went back to the beat-up chair, and when she sat in it the metal legs didn’t scrape against the tile. The buzzing in her navel wasn’t an unfamiliar ghost, but her own magic working, and she quickly found her own boiling anger sitting beside it - petulant and ignored and demanding to be heard even if the rest of the world had to be silent for it to happen.

Her brows wrinkled together, and she thought to it,  _ That’s very rude of you, and I definitely don’t need you around. _ But anger didn’t respond to that kind of thing, and she groaned as she acknowledged it instead,  _ I was very mad, and I needed to talk. Thank you. But I need to hear my mom too. So, please? _

And the feeling fizzled away, leaving her with only nonmagical feelings as her mother reached out. “Honey, you’re allowed to be upset about things. It’s okay to have bad feelings about good people.” She tugged Connie close into a hug, and Connie fell limp in her mother’s arms as she murmured, “Sometimes, there’s things I don’t like about your father and he doesn’t like about me.”

“But it’s not fair to him,” she mumbled. “The world  _ is _ more important!”

“Everyone knows the world is more important than their relationship,” Priyanka said calmly, and brushed Connie’s hair back from her face. “But most people don’t have to  _ experience _ that, and they don’t have to experience that as a child. And you…”

She sighed, her hands falling away. “You have a lot of experiences with very high expectations, and lots of rules, and not getting much love for it.” Priyanka’s eyes lowered guiltily, and her arms crossed over her chest so she looked more the guarded teen than Connie did. “I asked too much from you when you were small. I gave you so many rules and we moved around enough that you never made friends. You never got a say in your life. And, the way you’re talking now, I’m worried that’s what you think love looks like.”

“You did love me,” Connie murmured.

“Of  _ course _ I did.” She leaned forward. “Never doubt that for a second. But that’s not what love is supposed to look like. That’s not how things are going to be with other people, or with Steven, and if anyone ever tries don’t you  _ dare _ take it.”

She felt herself leaning back in the chair, wishing for an exit from the sudden vulnerability in her mother’s posture, in her gaze, when it was so rare to see the woman as anything but a wall of stern affection. “What do you mean?”

“When you’re making rules and setting boundaries, it’s not one person making all the choices,” she said, the wrinkles in her face deepening. “You make the rules together. You get to decide what your relationship looks like, magic or no.”

Connie shook her head. “I can’t leave five hundred miles without-”

“And if anyone else was five hundred miles apart they could have a whole new set of problems, like not having a teleporting lion, or warp pads, or dreamwalking, or any of the other ways you two get to skip the problems with a long-distance relationship.” Priyanka snorted, shaking her head. “Sometimes the universe makes rules, and it’s a lot harder to get around them. But the rest you get to pick.”

Connie didn’t respond, feeling sullenness and worry creeping in, and her mother insisted, “I know it’s terrifying, but you have to talk to him and tell him what you want. That’s the only way you’re going to feel better about this.”

“What if he doesn’t want it?” Connie asked, and her voice seemed to catch in her throat so the words came out as a whisper. ‘What if I’m too clingy? Or I’m not clingy enough? Or what if I change my mind and I want something else and-”

“It’s always a risk.” Priyanka shrugged. “You promise and it works or you can’t and it doesn’t. That’s another rule you can’t get around. Relationships are a lot of work and a lot of gambling. You can’t control other people.” She reached out to tweak Connie’s nose. “Not even when you make them yourself. They eventually get sick of it and go pick up swords.”

The sweetness didn’t do anything to soothe her worry. Out came the words, guilty and shameful and her voice was shaking as she confessed, “I want him to be around a lot, not like you and Dad.”

“That’s okay,” Priyanka said, as if Connie hadn’t just said something awful about her parent’s relationship. “Your father and I like spending time at our jobs and with friends. That’s not how everyone is. Your relationship doesn’t have to work like ours.”

She blurted, “I want some of my money to just be mine and not his, but Steven says that he and his dad share everything and maybe that’s what he thinks it’s supposed to be?”

Priyanka laughed a little. “Then you tell him you don’t want that and you want your own savings that he doesn’t have a say in! That’s fine, Connie. I think the millionaire isn’t going to complain that you don’t want to pool all your assets.”

Her heart fluttered a little at the reassurance, and she continued, “I want a career, a really good one, and I want to work hard. I don’t want to drop everything I’m doing all the time to handle gem stuff.” 

“You can move from that,” Priyanka agreed. “You’re not tied to the job you picked out when you were thirteen.”

She swallowed, and despite the confidence and assurance she had gained, the next words fell to whispers again, full of fear and shame once again, “Mom, I don’t want him to keep leaving me for gem stuff, and then I'm just powerless and alone and hurting.”

“Connie, that’s something that I… don’t really know a lot about.“ Priyanka shifted her grip, and Connie finally returned the hug tight as her mother offered, “Maybe you two should go have some time alone for a few days. No distractions. Just work out all this big relationship stuff once and for all.”

She muttered, “More talking. Great. My favorite.”

“You could borrow the van from Greg,” Priyanka mused. “You and Steven can use it for camping, and when you get permission you could have a talk with Greg about getting left behind. I think he might know that kind of thing better than me.” Her mother’s hand softly stroked her hair. “I think there might be some stuff in there you’re not comfortable with talking to me about, Connie.”

She remembered her mother’s business, her father’s nightshifts: too many nights alone in an empty house. Her parents knew they’d done wrong, and they were sorry, but the talks they had about it were brief and awkward. Apologies, promises to do better, and all the while words had sat heavy on her tongue as she struggled to find ways to explain the hurt of it all.

She pulled away slightly and eyed her in an attempt to diffuse the tension. “You want me to go camping all by myself with a boy? Who are you?”

“You said you weren’t married, and I’m assuming you don’t plan to get up to the things married people get up to.” Her mother looked at her sternly. “Or, at least, do it safely. You remember our talks. You’ve got all the proper protection. I want you to wait, but-”

“No!” She jerked up from her mother’s arms and made way for the office door. At least she could be a totally normal teenager here - she felt she had the appropriate amount of baggage and embarrassment when it came to a parental sex talk. “Thank you! I remember the talks. I don’t need a refresher. Nothing’s gonna happen.”

“Hold,” Priyanka ordered as Connie’s hand found the doorknob, and she groaned, her forehead thunking against it. “You should  _ always _ be prepared for something to happen.”

She groaned louder. “Okay! I got it. I’ll-”

Priyanka’s voice was soft, as she came to stand behind Connie, and again her mother held her tight. “I’m so glad you came to me with this. No matter what happens, you can always come to me with anything, Connie. I just want you to be safe.”

Connie’s eyes suddenly filled with tears, and she spun around to hug her mother tight as her throat ached once again. But this time, it was happiness flooding out from her belly, love that drove her eyes to sting. “Thank you so much. I… I really couldn’t do this by myself. I’m sorry I took so long to come to you.”

“Your early years didn’t give you good reason to trust me, honey.” She kissed her hair, and tightened her arms. “I’m just glad I saved it in time.”

They hugged for a while, and Connie had thought it would be all, but then her mother picked up the office phone. Connie stood, frozen in place, as her mother called the day off. She felt herself being dragged along, disbelieving, as Priyanka took her hand and suggested they have some more time to talk over ice cream, or some other junk food Connie was up for.

And somehow that, more than anything, made her feel like maybe things could work out with Steven after all.


	13. Universe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connie talks with both the Universe men.

Greg Universe was a rarely-tapped source of wisdom, but in all her years of talking with him she’d never had a bad conversation. She’d always felt like she came away learning something. As much as he may have struggled to be confident when it came to magic stuff and as much as the gems overlooked him, he understood humans better than anyone she had ever known.

Despite that, it took her a day to build up the courage to go talk to him. She strolled up to the carwash where he was grilling up hot dogs in the dusky afternoon light. He greeted her when he saw her, a happy wave and a happier smile, and she stood beside him so the smoke didn’t fly into her eyes. 

“Afternoon, Mr. Universe.”

“Did you come to see me?” he asked, then waggled his eyebrows as he gestured with the tongs. “Or did you just want one of my world-famous premium Greg Universe Grilled Dogs?”

“I’m here for you! My parents are making dinner and they won’t be happy if they find out I ruined my appetite.” She looked at the hot dog, feeling her stomach growl at the thought. “Even if it was for the world’s best dog.”

He chuckled as he turned the hot dogs, then started digging into a plastic bag for buns. “I’m all ears. How can I help you, kiddo?”

Connie had been planning her words for a while. She wanted to avoid stories, in case there were things that Steven didn’t want his dad to know about quite yet, but she thought she had come up with something decent. “Steven and I need to talk about some big stuff, and Mom thought that us going on a camping trip could be a good way to sort stuff out. But I wanted to get your permission to borrow the van and let you know that the two of us would be all alone on the trip.”

“You can borrow it, but Steven is his own man.” Greg snorted a little as he pried the buns open. “The Dondai is his car, he goes to space on his own, he liberated the galaxy... He doesn’t need my permission for anything.”

“Right. Of course.” She rubbed the back of her neck and dropped her eyes.

“But if you want to talk about something else, I’m here for you.” Hot dogs plated, he grunted as he climbed into the back of the van, and patted a spot beside him.

She looked at the spot, hesitating where she stood, then plucked up her courage to hop beside him. They sat side by side, quiet as Greg started in on the first hot dog. There were so many places to start. So many things to say.

Permission first.

Connie forced her voice steady: “Is it okay if I asked you about Rose? I know that stuff isn’t easy to talk about.”

“It’s been eighteen years. It’s pretty easy to talk about her now.” He smiled at her. “And I can talk about the hard stuff to help you out. I’ll tell you if I need a break.”

She nodded, then looked away from his face and down at her jeans. She’d tried to practice this part too, but nothing had sounded right. Nothing had felt right. She hoped it would be like combat, where she’d know what to do in the moment, but the words didn’t seem to be coming now, either. Connie was sure they’d be awful, but spoke nevertheless.

“I guess I’m afraid of a lot of things, but the worst fear is that I...I’ll do everything right, and he’ll leave me behind anyway. My mom didn’t really know how to talk about it, but…” Her eyes slowly roamed up, and she found him still looking down at her. Guilt sat like lead in her stomach. “Since Rose made the choice to have Steven, it sounds like you might…”

He took a deep breath. “Woo. Wow. You’re asking if it felt like she left me?”

“Yeah.” Connie closed her eyes, her whole body cringing up. “Not just that. Did you think she was going to leave? Or did you think she’d stay your whole life?”

“I mean. You never hope things are going to end.” He laughed and shook his head. “Geez. Hard questions. I thought you were just going to ask what love felt like. I thought I’d get to bust out the guitar.”

She felt a laugh escape along with his, a bit of looseness sliding into her shoulders and back. No one could lighten a mood like Greg. “Sorry! I mean, I know what love feels like. It’s easy. I’ve loved Steven for the longest time. Maybe the romance stuff is kind of confusing and different but…” She shrugged. “It’s the relationship that’s hard, not the feelings. I just… I’m not like him. I think you need more than love to make it work.”

“You’re  _ killing _ me,” he groaned, a hand over his heart. But then he nudged her with a little snort. “You never were a romantic, huh? You’re right. Loving Rose didn’t put food on the table. Didn’t solve all my problems. Just… made some stuff worth it.”

He set his plate behind him, then hunched over. His elbows sat on his thighs as he looked out at the road, and Connie was quiet to let him think. When she was small, she had thought of him as very impulsive and silly - which was something she assumed she had picked up from her parents’ poor impression.

Over time, she’d come to see past it. Greg was a worrier. He was thoughtful. He covered it up quite a bit, big smiles and bigger laughs, but she had always been more of a listener. They’d built up a rapport of sorts, and he told less jokes and thought a little more while he took advantage of the silence she offered him.

Eventually, he spoke: “I loved Rose with all my heart, but there was a lot of stuff she didn’t know about me and a lot of stuff I didn’t know about her. What I did know…” Each word was careful, his voice slower than usual as he seemed to think his words through. “She was really unhappy, kiddo. Really, really miserable.”

She nodded, only managing a quiet, “I know.”

“I was playing rock on the road. I saw some messed up people. And sometimes I made a lot of assumptions, thought I knew people better than I did and, well.” He dragged a hand across his face and sighed. “With her, I kind of always thought she was unhappy because she wasn’t meant to stick around on Earth. Guess I was half-right.”

“I’m sorry,” Connie said, in that awkward, awful way you responded to the death of someone you had never met, when someone was carrying a pain you didn’t really understand.

“It’s alright. I’m good.” He gave her knee a gentle pat and sat up with a groan. “When she came to me about making Steven, it was clear that it was happening with or without me. Rose wanted to make a hybrid kid, and she knew the cost, and I wanted to be a part of it.” He paused, thinking that over, and said it again, “If it was gonna happen no matter what, I wanted to be a part of it.”

Connie’s problems suddenly felt very manageable, and the world pivoted as she imagined the sweet yet stern voice of Rose Quartz telling Greg that she was going to have a baby, that she was going to die, and the only say he had in the matter was whether the father was him or someone else. She swallowed a lump in her throat as she suddenly thought of Steven’s mind following the same path hers was right now.

“Does Steven know?” Connie asked, then winced. “Sorry, none of my business.”

“We’ve talked it out.” The words were short, and then he carried on without anything else on the matter.‘“But you’re worried about Steven leaving you behind. I’m guessing you’re not worried about him dying for a ki-”

“No!” She gasped and couldn’t help but meet his eyes, because horror and revulsion churned in her gut at the idea - so awful she’d never even thought of it herself. She crossed her arms over her chest, her head giving one violent shake. “ _ Never. _ He’d never do that after what he went through. I know that.”

“Good! I don’t have to talk sense into you!” He ruffled her hair.

She ducked under his hand, shaking her head. “No, it’s just… We’ve talked about a lot of stuff over the years, Mr. Universe.” She crossed her arms and curled her fingers into fists. “He pushed me away.  _ Multiple _ times.”

He sized her up for a moment, looking her up and down. “You want my honest opinion?” She nodded, and he continued. “He was a kid in over his head and he tried his best. I don’t think he’s gonna do it to you again, kiddo.”

“Why?” she insisted, because for  _ once _ someone wasn’t calling her stupid for thinking it, or brushing her worries aside. She leaned forward, heart up in her throat. “What’s different now?”

“Because he doesn’t  _ have _ to save the world anymore. It’s just about what he wants, and I know my son. He’s got a lot of wedding planners.” Greg chuckled. “I’ve seen Stevonnie. I’ve seen how the two of you are together. You’re everything he’s ever wanted, and he’s going to do everything he can to keep you.”

Giddiness bloomed in her chest, silly light-headed delight, despite all her worries. A smile grew over her face no matter how she tried to tamp it down, so she had to put her knuckles over her lips to hide it as she looked away. Warmth pooled in her gut, masking the tingle of magic - but it happened before her eyes readily enough. Lavender flowered across the grassy spots of the wash, the light floral scent cutting through the smokey grill.

When her eyes found Greg’s, she found the man grinning. “Is that a good sign?”

She groaned, torn between delight and embarrassment and worry, flopping back in the van. “Mr. Universe, I want to believe it. I really do. But my parents loved me more than anything and I spent all my life before Steven following all their rules and doing my best and I  _ still _ spent all my time alone in my room!”

He flopped down beside her, eyebrows raised. “Strict parents are the worst.”

“Tell me about it,” she muttered.

“Your folks are really nice, Connie,” he said, “but nice doesn’t mean you’re a good parent, you know? And my way of dealing with it was to run off and become a rock star. I did everything right and what did it get me? Nothin.”

She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I don’t want to cut them out like you did with yours.”

“Neither did I. I wrote letters.” He rolled on his side to put a hand on her shoulder. “And they never wrote back, because they were the kind of people who thought you got to make choices for other people. We’re all like that sometimes. Steven had some really bad problems with it growing up - he thought he knew better than everyone else.”

Connie swallowed. “But he’s not like that anymore.”

“Just like your parents aren’t like that anymore,” Greg agreed. “But I still like the freedom of sleeping in my van. I still get mad when someone says I should cut my hair, or tells me how I should live my life. This stuff sticks with you.”

“Please tell me there’s a but.”

Greg laughed. “ _ But _ you can still change. You can still deal. There was stuff Rose asked me not to do and not ask her about and I didn’t, and that all worked out for us. And, you know, I asked the same of her. We talked. It worked, all the way until the end. It worked.”

She took a deep breath, and then slowly let it go and tried to send her frustrations with it. Talking. Of course it was talking, always talking, because that’s what relationships were. Garnet was  _ a conversation _ , wasn’t she? And that was what she had to have, all alone with Steven, trying to find their own way to make it work.

Well. Only one thing left to do. The worst part.

She dug into her pocket. “I have another question. Steven’s told you about the gem sharing thing, right?”

Greg nodded. “Yeah. He talks about it every day.”

“Great. Please don’t tell anyone this, ever, okay?” She waited for him to nod, then nervously held out her phone. “Okay, so this is my mom’s office. I talked to her yesterday, and we left, and when she came back it was full of plants. Cardamom, ginger, pepper - spices out of her tea bag.”

“Cool.” He leaned forward, inspecting the picture. “Steven grows plants like that. Give him a pot and he’ll grow a dozen flowers out of one seed. It’s wild. Rose used to grow hydrangeas out of potatoes.”

She dragged her phone to her chest, face heating. “Right. Okay. But I’ve been trying to figure out the feeling that makes it happen. The only other time I did it was… I… I was with Steven and-”

Greg cut her off, calm and steady and ever. “You grew a plant out of his teabag too, right? After you kissed?”

She choked on anything that could resemble real words, and only managed to bob her head in agreement.

He was clearly struggling not to smile, and she appreciated his effort. “Steven heals people he loves without even noticing. It’s his sneakiest power. Maybe you just grow plants when you love people - all kinds.”

“Thank you! Oh, stars, you have no idea how much I was freaking out!” She clutched her phone to her chest. “Mr. Universe, I was  _ really  _ paranoid about my relationship with my mom for a second.”

The two of them cracked up in the back of his van, more ridiculous jokes and comments tumbling out, until tears of mirth and relief stung at her eyes, and she had to go before her parents started calling. She thanked him, texted Steven an invitation to go camping, and portaled home.

Steven agreed before her feet landed in her own room.

* * *

It only took two days for them both to clear their schedules and pack up for a mid-week camping trip. They thanked Greg once again for letting them borrow the van while he took the Dondai, loaded up the larger car, and headed up into the woods and the hills for some time alone.

Steven liked to drive, so anywhere they went usually had him behind the wheel. She usually let him pick the music too, because that seemed fair - if he was doing the work of driving, he should enjoy whatever he wanted to listen to. So the noise of the engine and the wheels on the road was muffled by the sounds of indie rock, and his sweet voice singing along.

She was always lulled into serenity when Steven sang. He poured passion into every note so that it was impossible to feel anything but at peace. She looked back and forth between the landscape - turning more and more forested by the minute - and Steven’s handsome face as he crooned along to songs about nostalgia and growing up.

Connie tried not to think about her bad dreams. She tried not to think of Steven’s pink clone biting through strings, spitting out pieces while green ichor coated his cheeks. He wasn’t Steven, just her own imagination, and so there was no reason to dwell on it. She tried not to think of his cold, emotionless voice scolding her for taking too long to figure herself out, to understand what she wanted.

Her pink self was sobbing and Connie was sobbing, and there was begging and gasping and bargaining to just let them have a bit more time. It had only been a couple weeks. Surely they could have more than a couple weeks to adjust to it all? And his lips curled back the wrinkles around his mouth and nose like Lion setting his teeth around a haunch of meat too large for his greed and ripped through more ropes as everything hurt.

“You keep looking at me,” Steven said, a touch of shyness in his voice. “Do I have something on my face?”

She debated for a moment, watching his eyes flick back and forth from the road to her before deciding that she wanted to start with a nice tone for their trip. She smiled, propping her head up in her hand. “I just love it when you sing.”

He flushed as he giggled. “Right. I could put something else on. We could sing together.”

“We could talk,” Connie suggested and before the tension could sit in about what they could talk about, she blurted, “About something nice! Easterfeld is coming out with the finale to his Behemoth trilogy this year. Did you see the press release?”

He had not, so she whipped out her phone to pull it up. She managed to load the page, albeit very slowly because service was dipping. That meant no backup. No support. Just the two of them talking things out on their own. 

Wow. Had the van always been so small? It felt really small. Steven had lowered the music but she could feel the thump of the bass pounding against her eardrums. She swallowed as a phantom cord tightened around her throat and tried to focus on the press release.

She remembered her own fingers curled around her neck, her own voice snarling with rage.  _ When he leaves, it’ll be your fault. _

Connie focused on jokes. On music. On anything other than her own overwhelming dread. Steven seemed fine. He seemed happy just to be with her, like always, and she tried not to compare herself to him. 

She compared herself nevertheless. Did he know what he was doing, somehow? Did he understand relationships even though she was miserably unprepared? He had always had a better knack for romance than her. He had always understood clues and hints in TV shows and books. He had spent time with older kids, learning about their romance, while she had only just been learning how to enter her own peer group.

She was so caught up in her thoughts she barely noticed when he parked the van. The campgrounds were simple enough - a valley with access to bathrooms and water and places to set up campers and tents. Plenty of people ambled around the grounds.

But there was a path at the end of the valley - a long, twisting trail that went up higher into the mountains and into dangerous, lonely places. Back into the woods, where they had fought not too long ago. Different woods, technically, but they were all similar enough. Familiarity beat a single bad memory, though, so they camped in the terrain they were most familiar with.

As they walked and searched for a good site, his eyes kept finding hers, his lips parting to speak, only for words to falter and the two of them to awkwardly look away. Setting up the campsite had gone similarly, but at least the physical work was easy to do. After saving countless planets from Diamond tyranny, the two of them had plenty of practice at making a comfy spot to sleep in the wildest of places.

As she finished setting up their tent and Steven finished a little fire pit, she spotted a lovely little patch of green to the side. “Hello, clover,” she said as she crouched, and looked back at Steven with a smile. “It’s a little early for it to flower. The greens are kinda bitter, but the buds are tender and tasty. You could wash them off and just toss them in a salad.”

“And it won’t be pine needle tea?” he teased.

“Nothing like pine needle tea. More like the hibiscus tea, except probably not  _ that _ good.”

She stood again, legs pinching slightly after the effort of the hike, and found him beside her. His hand held a single hibiscus blossom, offering it to her with a smile that made her heart flip. “There’s loads of plants I can grow flowers out of, if you want.”

There was something so overwhelming about the romance of even his smallest actions, a swirl of feelings that had her torn between fleeing into the woods and holding him tight. She did neither, paralyzed, and murmured, “Thank you. I think we can make do with what we brought, though.”

“And with whatever you find.” Steven hesitated, then tucked the flower into her hair. His fingers brushed against her hair, against the shell of her ear, as the petals fell into place. Her eyes met his, and stomach fluttering giddiness filled her up as he smiled wider. “You’ve always been amazing at survival stuff.”

She ducked her head and rubbed her ear, still tingling from the ghost of his hand. “Cut it out.”

“Sorry, I…” He cleared his throat, and his smile was gone. Instead, his brows moved together like he was staring at a particularly confusing textbook. It was rare for Steven to seem so confused by her - only baffled when she confessed to anger or sadness that she had kept carefully concealed, and the thought that their communication had broken down enough for him to be so lost made her heart sting.

Steven continued, his voice as gentle as he’d be with any corrupted gem: “I put flowers in your hair before. And I compliment you all the time. I don't know why you’re mad at me-”

“I’m not mad at you,” she said.

“It feels like you are. And I get it.” He dropped his head, one hand rubbing at his upper arm. Then he dropped it to fiddle with the hem of his shirt instead, as if he thought about clutching it tight. “I think I was so happy about all this stuff I’ve been really pushy.”

Connie blinked. “ _ Pushy? _ ”

“Yeah, about everything.” He groaned, shoulders slumping more. “I’m going too fast. I want to be together all the time and kiss and make out and share my gem with you. This all started because I wanted you always with me, like fusing, and I basically just forced you to be with me.”

She shook her head. “What do you mean forced? I wanted to!” A startled laugh burst from her. “I-I mean, if anything I thought you’d be upset that I was taking part of your gem away from you.”

“I know I got carried away. I act like everything’s right when it’s not.” He was hardly looking at her, looking around in an almost panicked way. Her words didn’t seem to connect, and he continued, “I can  _ feel _ that you’re not happy and I… I’m still being pushy with compliments and flowers and-”

“Emotions are complicated,” she retorted. “Even if you’re feeling mine, you can’t know for sure how it all works.”

His hand clutched his shirt, gripped hard over his gem, and she could feel the ghost of his fingers against her own navel. With the touch came a flash of pain for a moment - confusion and guilt and shame. Each emotion was as distant and as real as feeling it through a character in a book.

“I can feel that you’re really scared,” he said, one hand still clutching his gem, the other raising to rest over his heart. “So if you’re just doing all this to make me happy or because you’re afraid breaking it off is gonna hurt, I promise it’s gonna be okay and we can end it.”

She could see his teeth around pink strings and her heart ached in her chest. “No, that... that’s not what I want. That’s the opposite of what I want!”

“I mean, if we’ve only been connected a little while and I can already feel where you are and I’m feeling your emotions. That’s  _ really _ selfish of me. And I talked to Pearl and, geeze, all your power comes from me. You’re tied to me.” He laughed, the sound pained and panicked. Tears formed in the corner of his eyes, the breath he pulled in to speak shaky. “I’ve been so selfish. I’m just going to hold you back.”

“You wouldn’t!” Connie cried, and the words for why were there, and she had them, but they wouldn’t  _ move _ . She couldn’t move, and she had no idea if there was magic happening or if plain emotions had frozen to the spot.

“I’m sorry, Connie. I’m sorry I put you through all this.” He groaned, rubbing his eyes. As he did, he took a couple steps back - just enough to keep clear of her personal space.

That was too much, though. There was fear, suddenly - deep and dark and awful as it surged through her brain. He wasn’t leaving, she knew that. It was obvious he was just trying to let her catch her breath, but it was awful, and she quickly matched with two steps towards him as she tried to speak.

Her words were jammed in her throat. Oh, how desperately she longed to tell him he didn’t get it. How desperately she wished she could say it wasn’t all the things he assumed. If only she could call Lion and mount up and run away from him, because every word from Steven drove a nail into her brain, made it hard to think, because she was hurt and scared and she was so used to letting him  _ talk _ .

She always let Steven talk. She let Steven choose the music. She let Steven set the pace, and make the offers, and the activities, because he was a good leader and an even better listener and when she was stressed and worried she locked up. She was used to letting him babble, and unable to speak her own piece, responded to the pieces he dropped.

He couldn’t babble right now.

Wind blew through the trees, but not a rustle was heard. Steven’s mouth moved a moment, but no sound came out, and it looked as if he was startled into silence. The world was quiet for her, and she had a moment to think. She closed her eyes, breathing deep, as Steven’s words rushed through her head.

_ I need to get better about asking you how you’re feeling _ , he’d said.

But maybe she needed to get better about saying how she was feeling too.

She opened her eyes, the world muted save for her voice, and though she whispered it might as well have been shouting: “Steven, I’m afraid of getting closer because I’m afraid you’re going to leave.”

His eyes widened, his mouth moving, but she couldn’t hear. This time, the guilt was definitely her own as she said, “I-I’m sorry. This isn’t fair to you. I needed a second to think, but I… I’m sorry. Give me a second to release it.”

And it did only take a second - it was easier and easier to manage the feelings now that she could see and name them. The feeling in her gut vanished, though she was wonderfully thankful for it today, and wind and light birdsong rushed back into their campsite.

Steven’s voice came with it, denial instantly on his lips. “I would  _ never _ leave you.” Despite his earlier attempts to give her distance, every attempt at that faded now, and he stepped close. 

“But you have,” she said softly. His face scrunched up, and the words kept coming, quiet and steady but heavy nevertheless. “You tried to push me away when Jasper first attacked. You left me in the ocean when you gave yourself up to Homeworld. I’ve seen you shut down and lock me out when you’re hurt plenty of times over the years, Steven.”

“I was a kid,” he whispered. “A  _ stupid _ kid.”

“I know! I mean, I wasn’t perfect either, I just…” She put her hand over her heart, breathing deep even as she could feel tension in her head from all the feelings crashing down on her. “Steven, I grew up with so many rules and expectations and even when I did everything right I still spent a lot of time all by myself. This is…”

She paused for a moment, then laughed. “It’s baggage, I guess. It’s something I have to work on and deal with, but it’s not going to go away overnight. I’m afraid of rules. I’m afraid of not meeting expectations. I’m afraid that I’m not going to be able to follow the rules and meet your expectations and you’re going to leave.”

He swallowed, loud enough for her to hear. His hand reached for her, for a split second, then dropped away. “I am  _ never _ going to leave you again. I promise. I’m gonna-”

“Wait. Please.” She took his hands and again, for the briefest second, she felt a glimpse of a relief that was not her own - real and distant at the same time. Connie went further, then. She brought a knuckle to her lips, brushing her fingers against them in reassurance.

She murmured, “I know you do things with your gut. I love that about you. But I need you to think this over first, okay? I… I need it to come from your head too, not just your heart. I need to know you thought it through.”

Steven chuckled again, but this one wasn’t so panicked or frightened, and she was able to smile in response to it. “Uh, my head’s not my strongest suit.”

“It’s still a really good one to me.” She stared at him for a moment, so many thoughts whirling and rushing, and found the most important one: “If you don’t want to deal with this stuff, I get it. We’re not perfect for each other, I guess.”

“Connie, I…” His hand came up to cup her cheek, but hesitated, and she was surprised that it was easy to bring it the rest of the way to her face, that she was desperate for his touch and eager to reassure him that she  _ wanted _ this, even while there were problems still up in the air. 

He spoke, and she could hear him holding back the romantic speech he longed to give. “I love you in every way I know how to love someone. I’m not ending anything because you’ve got problems.”

A laugh burst from her and she blinked back tears. She hid them, too, feeling silly about it all as she buried her face in his chest and flung her arms around him. Their gems brushed together, and in an instant the world fell away. Everything was safety, security, an overwhelming sense of wholeness as each part of the gem found its missing half.

Her voice came out calm and adoring. “I should’ve known. In what world would  _ Steven Universe _ not want to talk about someone else’s problems?”

“It’s not like I don’t have problems too, and you’ve always been here for all of it. If you only got to be with the person who was perfect for you, life would be pretty lonely.”

He pushed her back, and for the briefest moment she worried it was a rejection after all, but it was only so he could turn her to face the clover patch again. His chin rested on her shoulder as she looked over the greenery - speckled in sweet purple flowers that were too early to bloom.

Steven’s arms wrapped lightly around her waist, “So, now that you’re an expert farmer, do you still wanna run away and start that apple farm?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this week's chapter was a day late. I'm gonna skip next week. I've been going through some stuff lately, tbh, and I just need a week to catch my breath. Don't worry, the last two chapters are outlined. I'm not struggling to think of an ending! I just need a breather! <3 So I'll see you all the Sunday after next with some absolutely overwhelming romance, haha. Thank you all for reading!


	14. Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With decadent amounts of romance, Steven and Connie work out their feelings and plans for the future.

Boundaries could not wait.

Plenty of things in their relationship could, but that wasn’t one of them. Steven, even without the recent relationship changes, had always expressed himself through touch, and neither of them could feel comfortable without an easy discussion. Could he touch? Could she? Where? How? With careful but clear language, they decided above the waist was just fine for them both, along with the casual, friendly touches to legs and knees that had always been a part of their relationship. 

Lines of consent were quickly redrawn with romance in mind. There were things they were comfortable with and things they weren’t, and regardless of what other people their age might have been doing, they were happy to go far slower than other teen counterparts. A bit of tension faded from the two of them as that was settled.

They took a break from talking after that. Their campsite set up and marked in their minds, they each grabbed a premade sandwich and set off on a quiet hike. They were back to silence being warm and comfortable rather than tense and awkward, which Connie thought might have been a bigger relief than anything else.

Without the need to chatter, they enjoyed a few lazy hours of the afternoon. Only a few words passed between them, even as they returned to their campsite. By the time they arrived, Connie noted that Steven’s shoulders had gone from tight and tensed to loose, and her own jaw was aching slightly as the stress that had kept it clenched eased away.

When Steven started heating up a half-cooked bag of tomato soup over their fire, Connie held a little bag of dried basil to her chest. She held them close and tried to love something enough to make the plant spring back to life with little success.

“Only the portals and the sword are easy to make happen,” she said with a sigh. She massaged the herbs in their little packet, but there didn’t seem to be even the faintest change in their color or smell of texture. “Everything else I can only make stop. What about you?”

“I guess the stuff that’s been happening to me isn’t really new powers,” he said thoughtfully as he turned the wooden spoon through the heavy pot. “I know what my powers are, you know? I haven’t gotten any new ones. I mean, I have, but… they’re not really mine.”

“I think I get what you mean,” she said with a grin. “But I was asking for magic lessons.”

“Oh, gees.” He laughed and ducked his head. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. This is probably a better talk.” She sat up and set the bag of basil aside. “I think I’ve felt what you mean. Some stuff doesn’t really feel like I’m doing anything. It’s not some magic or emotion I’m turning on or off. It’s just a part of me now. The stuff Pearl told me about - sensing where you are.”

He nodded as he looked down into the pot, a small quirk to his lips. “And feeling your feelings. You always have a piece of me with you, so I know where you are. It’s like when I close my eyes and know where my hands are.”

“It’s like fusion. The places where we blend together.” She pushed to her feet, coming over to look into the pot and enjoy the wonderful, familiar scent of woodfire and smoke. “I haven’t had a lot of luck with those powers. I don’t feel stuff the way you do.”

He laughed. “That’s okay! It’s not consistent for me either. It’s only when your emotions get big. We’ll get it with practice.”

“Maybe.” She giggled. “But my connection might be weaker, since I have a fake g-”

“Please don’t.”

His eyes met hers, and she was surprised to find his expression wrinkled and tight. She blinked. “Don’t what?” 

“Don’t call it a fake, or say you’re stealing my magic, or that your stuff is worse than mine. It hurts. I-it’s a gift.” He looked at her across the flames, his expression unreadable. “If you don’t hate it, can you stop talking about it like you do? It’s hard enough when I have all these feelings about my gem.”

Connie’s fingers rested at her belly as every off-handed dismissal and disparaging word flicked through her mind. Deeper in her gut, guilt sunk like lead and left her feeling awful. Ungrateful. Steven had broken off a part of his soul for her, and in return she’d let her own self-doubt cloud her judgment. She’d treated a gift as a curse, and disparaged the thing he’d selflessly given her.

She nodded, worrying her lower lip. “I’ll try to stop saying that kind of thing. I’m thankful, Steven. Really.”

“You don’t have to like it, but, if you do, I wanna know.” He let the spoon rest, his hand coming to take hers with warmth and comfort. She smiled as her slender fingers vanished among his thicker ones, the broadness of his palm dwarfing her own. The calluses of his fingertips scratched gently along her knuckles.

“I do like it,” she said, squeezing his hand. “I love all the powers I have.”

“You know, I don’t even think of it as powers. And maybe that’s a little selfish, because a _lot_ changed for you. I didn’t really think about that.”

She laughed. “Oh my gosh. I couldn’t stop thinking of it as me being a burden - like I was taking away your magic or what made you special. Thinking of it as a power-up made me wonder how I was supposed to use it the right way.”

“It’s not a burden! It’s a connection. All this stuff…” He groaned, closing his eyes. “I think it happened because I wanted fusion without fusing. I wanted to be together without always being together, you know?”

She nodded. “I get it. We’re not Garnet.”

“Yeah! I, geez…” He scoffed. “I wish I had just told you about it from the start.”

She untangled herself from him and grabbed the basil. It tumbled into the pot, and she smiled as she shrugged. There was no use dwelling on it now, just as there was no use in spending all night coaxing powers that wouldn’t come. Instead of words, she leaned forward to softly peck his cheek, and before she could look back into the pot, her affections were returned with a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

It was quick, but she remembered it this time. She had _references_ this time. Steven’s kiss was soft, but the skin on her face was sensitive. Her heart skipped a beat as his gaze met hers - maybe a little bit of heat in his eyes, but not nearly so burning as the last time they’d kissed on his bed.

The soup was good. The company was better.

* * *

The next morning, they went fishing in a nearby stream with gentle lures. They tossed them back, as Steven preferred to avoid meat and killing whenever possible and Connie was happy to follow suit. The water babbled over rocks and pebbles, and they talked softly so as not to spook any nearby fish.

“I guess I was putting a lot of pressure on myself.” Connie shook her head, one hand braced against stone as she leaned back. “I wanted to master everything right away. Like I said, I felt like you gave me something big and important, but I didn’t know what you wanted me to do with it.”

Steven’s head fell to her shoulder, his eyes looking up at her under his lashes as he whispered, “Nothing. It’s a gift, silly. I just want you to enjoy it.”

Her fingers brushed softly through his locks as she looked down at his face, her other hand holding her rod steady in the water. _Little bits, little pieces,_ she told herself. It had worked yesterday, so despite the slight tension in her spine, she confessed, “I guess I’m scared because I’m waiting for you to ask me to earn it. What if I can’t give you what you want?”

He was quiet for a bit. His shoulders tightened, his face reddening, and the blush crawled all the way up to his ears. The words came out fast, barely understandable: “Be my partner, like always. And maybe a romantic one now, since it sounds like you like that too. But that’s it. That’s all I want. Just a partner.”

“I’m trying to give you all that,” Connie said, grinning to herself at the cuteness of his flushed face, the clear embarrassment in his open affection. She kissed his forehead. “I’m not like you. I’m not into all this romance stuff, so I haven’t prepared. I’m in the dark.”

As she leaned back, the grin on her face broadened from the startled look on his. His hand reached up to touch the spot her lips had been, so that she had to swallow a laugh from the sweetness of it all, and wondered how many other times one of her simple pecks had left him looking so pleased.

“That’s kind of what I’ve been afraid of,” he said and straightened himself to explain. “Listen, I know I’m not as smart as you, but-”

She shook her head. “Don’t say that. You’re plenty smart.”

He grinned and waved her off with his free hand. “No, I mean, I know that I’m slower than you in math and reading and stuff, but I was actually gonna say that I’ve always been better than you at feelings.”

She sighed, propping her chin up on her fist as she leaned forward to stare into the noisy water before them. “Can’t argue with you there. I got the facts and you’ve got the feelings.”

“I don’t think you’re _stupid_ with feelings.” Steven looked out to the water himself with the slightest of frowns. “I’m just faster. And, love, well, I really love love. I asked everyone about it and the closer we got to being romantic, the more I tried to learn.”

She laughed as a ridiculous idea hit her. “So what? Are you saying you were trying to avoid taking advantage of me or something?” His blush refused to abate, and he turned away as shame crept over his face. She cried his name in shock, and set down her pole to grab his shoulders, turning him back around. “You’re not serious? _That’s_ what you’ve been worried about?”

“I know I can be manipulative,” Steven blurted, his voice cracked with nerves. “I grew up always having to trick and push people into doing the right thing! Or the thing I think is right. Sometimes I push too hard and I don’t listen.”

 _“Pushy,”_ she said, realization dawning. She gave him a playful shove with another laugh. “You were nervous about pushing me romantically! All because of that one time we kissed?”

“We kissed a lot,” he argued, looking quite indignant at the idea. 

“A couple pecks on the lips!” she protested, and barely held back more giggles as he started to pout. “I barely even _felt_ them! One of them was _healing._ That doesn’t count.”

“What about the dreams?” he said, then jerked back. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard from the confession. “I had two dreams that… stuck to me. One where we were married and kissing. Another where we went to Japan. We kissed in both and when we woke up I… When I remember those dreams, they’re more real.”

“Shared dreams.” She closed her eyes. Just those two, it sounded like. Steven wouldn’t keep silent if he had seen anything else. She shook those worrying thoughts away and looked at him again. 

He was looking nervous and she could see him getting tense again. It seemed big for him, though she’d considered the dreams very pleasant compared to the nightmares. But Steven was concerned, so she went to her first thought of why it might have been problematic: “Okay, well, you weren’t controlling the kissing dreams, right?” 

He shook his head. She shrugged. “Then it was mutual. I mean, I kissed you back every time, real and dream, right?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know. I’m worried I’m thinking too far ahead.”

“Okay, hold on.” Connie took his rod from his hands, setting it aside on the rocks. His legs were crossed up tight, which meant it was easy enough. Nerves buzzed at the back of her brain, her chest just a little too tight, but nevertheless she laid down, letting her head rest against his thighs as she looked up at him.

Her heart practically hummed in her chest, and despite her attempt at confidence she could feel her jaw starting to tighten again. Still, Steven had laid his head in her lap countless times, and the lines they’d drawn meant she could do the same. He was thick, with soft fat and plenty of warmth radiating up to her head, and the feel of the coarse denim on her cheeks was rough, but comforting in its intimacy.

“I’m ready for romance, Steven. You can tell me whatever you’re thinking.”

Steven’s face remained adorably red in the sunlight, but the choked noise of surprise was a welcome addition. She grinned, arms crossed as she patiently waited for him to recover.

It took longer than expected. First he had to stare, barely breathing, as if it was too much of a shock to take. Then his hand fell to her cheek, barely touching, the slightest tremor to it, like she wasn’t real at all. She leaned her face against him, trying her best to encourage though she couldn’t find any words inside her to speak.

“I fantasize about us getting married a lot.” Steven’s voice came out breathy, again with that awe and disbelief that she found so sweet. He paused as if she would panic. She smiled, and tried to look encouraging as he continued on. “ I have, um, specific wedding planners for us.”

She giggled. “Are you about to propose to me?”

His lips twisted into a grimace. “I thought about it when I was younger, like sixteen? But I talked to Dad and he explained some stuff about why I shouldn’t. I asked Lars too and he said I was an idiot and some really rude stuff about me never having sex.”

She choked on a laugh, covering her mouth as she imagined a much younger Steven with rings and flowers and an elaborate proposal. “Don’t feel too bad. I mean, when we were _really_ little I was always trying to figure out how to kiss you.” 

“I noticed,” he said, looking all too pleased with himself as he grinned. “You _liked_ me.”

“I did.” She gave his hand a little squeeze. “I _do._ But I think being on your gem is enough of a commitment for now. Can we put a pin in the wedding for a couple years? I’d like my bachelor’s first.”

It was as if she’d agreed to the proposal now. His face lit up at the thought, and she giggled at the delight in his eyes. She never could have thought that something that seemed so logically inevitable could make him so excited, but she had to admit even she could feel an odd sense of security at the confirmation that he had long term plans. What a difference a day could make.

Connie gave his hand a playful tug. “You have your proposal planned, don’t you?”

“That’s not important,” he said, which told her everything she needed to know.

The teasing continued, and as the sun rose up to noon, heat burned down uncomfortably on their little rock. Abruptly giving up on fishing, they headed back to camp to eat. It was her turn to cook, and while the potatoes slowly roasted in foil packets over the open flame, Connie cradled a handful of dried chives in her hand and tried to remember how to make things grow. 

How on earth was she supposed to love chives? Or love something else and _channel_ it into chives? She loved nature and survival and ecosystems and science and… none of that seemed to be working to boost the plant to life.

Steven came to sit beside her with a little laugh, the bright sun speckling through the leaves overhead as he leaned against a thick trunk behind him. “So, love troubles?”

“Hilarious.” She snorted and rolled her eyes at him. 

He picked a few from her hands, and gently lowered his lips to them. A bulb stretched down in his hand, a single shoot of green chive springing up, and from the stalk bloomed a dozen different little flowers - none of them the blossom she knew should grow from the plant. Steven shrugged. “I’m not great at food. Maybe it’s watermelon trauma.”

She laughed, tracing the petals. “You make new things. You change them. I think it’s beautiful.” And, careful not to put her own powers down, she continued, “The stuff I’ve been growing is based off things that are already there. Lavender is local to the area. The plants in my mom’s office, the mint - it came from tea bags, I think.”

“I think they’re pretty similar,” Steven said with a smile, nudging her gently. “Maybe you’ve got some healing of your own in there somewhere, and it just works a little different.”

“Maybe.” Connie laughed. “But, for now, I just want to figure out how to grow plants like I _know_ I can.”

He hummed, setting aside his silly amalgamation flower. “Well, a lot of my powers I learned in, uh… not great ways. But I think the thing that helped them come out so fast was making me feel stuff - big emotions. And eventually I got a lot of practice at figuring out how to feel them in small ways, to keep the powers going.”

She grinned. “So we should stay out here until we’re starving and we need to grow plants to survive? I’ll call Mom.”

Steven snorted, ruffling her hair while her hands were too busy to protect her locks. “Let’s _not._ I think that was probably a bad way to learn. Romantic love is probably a nicer way to learn, if you wanted to try that.”

She shook her hair back into place and looked at the red that was coming to his face once again. “Oh yeah? How does romantic love affect _your_ powers?”

“I… I like you a lot.” He cleared his throat awkwardly, but that didn’t stop the cracking as he continued, “You know. In a physical way. So healing you is probably easier than anyone else. It’s just easy to think about how much I love you, since romantic love is so big and in your face.”

Connie raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying we should make out until the chives grow?”

He dragged a hand over his face with a miserable moan. “No! I mean, you can try thinking about more physical stuff.”

“Like what?” Silliness bubbled up in her chest at his obvious suffering, and when he glared down at her she simply fluttered her eyelashes as ridiculously as she could manage.

“You’re not _really_ gonna make me say it out loud, are you?” he mumbled.

“Sorry. Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Connie said with a wicked grin, shaking her hands so the dried herbs hissed quietly against one another. “Just a naive girl with a hand full of chives. When you say physical, do you mean holding hands? I just don’t know what _else_ you could mean.”

“I don’t know how much of this stuff you think about, okay?” He groaned and flopped onto his back in the grass. His hands covered his face, though she could still see red on his neck and his ears. “But, you know, I went through puberty and everything so I see you in your tennis outfit and I think, ‘Wow, Connie is really hot’ and I _promise_ I feel really guilty about that.”

She bit her lips to hold back a smile, a flutter in her chest as she looked back down at her hands. “Really? My tennis outfit? I don’t see what’s so sexy about that. Tennis is boring.”

“Are you kidding?” he said, yanking his hands down to gawk at her. “I-I can see basically all of your legs! And the top half is basically a leotard. Most of them don’t even have sleeves so I can see your arms when-”

Connie couldn’t tell if it was embarrassment, joy, or the silliness of it all that caused the giggles to burst forth, but out they came. He gawked at her, his face adorably baffled by her hysteria, and she struggled to keep from falling over as she choked on laughter.

“What’s so funny?”

She shook her head as she tried to catch her breath. “I’m never going to be mad that you think I’m _hot_ , Steven. Not ever. I think you’re hot too. I mean, we’re dating, right?”

He laughed back. “How was I supposed to know? You’re supposed to tell someone when you think they’re hot, you know, and I think you’re supposed to tell someone when you’re officially dating them.”

Her giggles died down as she scooted close to hold up the chives between them - there was a flusher green to the pieces, a bit more fragrance to them, but hardly the flourishing field from yesterday. She could feel her lips twisting into a pout. “Why is it so hard?”

“Are you thinking about the plants?”

She nodded. “All the time!”

“That’s your problem.” Steven pointed down to the plants in her hands. “You can’t do it if you’re thinking about what you need to do. If it’s an obligation, or a job, it won’t work. Get the feeling, and once you have it you can direct it where it needs to go.”

She looked over him, broad and taller than her when they were sitting. She’d always been all legs. He always felt bigger than her when they were sitting down, moreso than when they were side by side. She let the feeling sink in, the slight thrill and excitement, and carefully poured the chives back into the bag. She slid it into her pocket, and settled into his lap once again. 

This time, her legs slipped over his so she was sitting on his thighs. The denim on her face earlier brushed against her legs as she settled, and she took slow breaths as she tried to slow her pounding heart. More intimacy than before, and though she’d hardly call the act risque for a pair dating on either side of eighteen, it was still a lot for her. For them.

She saw him swallow, watched his eyes flick down to her lips and back up. Steven’s voice was unsteady, strained and raspy with emotion she didn’t fully understand. Longing, she hoped. He murmured, “Do you want to make out until the chives grow?”

Her throat was tight, but it was all thrill and anticipation. She leaned forward, and their chests brushed together - the curve of her breasts against his firm flatness. She could feel him breathe against her, fast and a little shaky. Her own breath came the same way - immediately falling to shallow and quick once her attention was off keeping it slow.

“I’ll focus more on feelings and less on magic,” Connie said, her eyes flicking between his parted lips and dark eyes. “No chive thoughts.”

“Great,” he agreed. “I’m way more into feelings than magic.”

His hands came to her waist, gentle over her shirt. The muscles of her abdomen tensed just from the weight of them, the thrilling touch that held her steady. She remembered those same hands not too long ago against her skin in the same place, and could already feel the heat of them through her shirt.

When his head cocked she matched him in the other direction. Her eyes were closed by the time their lips met, and without the nervousness of it being any kind of real first kiss, she could smile in the embrace and felt him do the same.

His apprehension vanished just as quickly. A second kiss. A third. Steven’s hands dropped lower, from her waist to her hips, and effortlessly slid her closer. Their gems brushed through the fabric, and a faint shiver of contentment ran through the two of them at the easy love that simmered between them. Overwhelming, overpowering, so that for a moment every thought was pushed from her mind save for the way their feelings resonated together.

And then, as she struggled to adjust to that, she felt her awareness shift to her spot on his lap, her hips up against his, in a position that was quite a bit past acceptable for public use. But the woods were still, and they were alone, so she swallowed the lump of anxious, excited nerves that filled her throat.

Connie rested her forehead against his with her eyes still shut. She heard her breath come hard, like she’d been jogging, though they’d only been kissing for a few moments. Still, his feelings against hers were dizzying, and the way their emotions bounced back and forth in an odd, fading echo made her pause. “I think I’m feeling physical love.”

“Sounds like you’re not sure,” Steven murmured, and as his voice dropped low it hummed in her own chest. “Lemme help.”

She let her eyes flick open, and her stomach bottomed out at the look in his. Wanting and restraint in equal measure, and his fingers shifted to her back with a little tremor as he pressed her towards him. The connection between their gems was no more intense for it, but the pressure of it was its own kind of reassurance and excitement.

Everything was different now that boundaries were clear. It was easy - like hugging and wrestling had been when they were kids. Without fear of being pushy, Steven pressed in his own Steven way - gentle, slow, careful for any signs of hesitation from her.

His mouth was just slightly open as he kissed her again, and she only had a brief moment to giddily realize she had lost count of kisses and was now simply the kind of girl who kissed. Her hands, uncertain of where to go, settled for his shoulders as she focused on whatever they were trying with their mouths.

She mimicked his parted lips, and after a single testing flick of his tongue against her lower lip, found their tongues brushing one another in fumbling practice. It got better quickly, tongues going from accidentally forceful to slow and exploratory. His fingers curled against her shirt, and again she felt the trembling come back to his arms.

As her hands brushed against his cheeks, the smallest whimper escaped him, and she broke the kiss to whisper, “Are you alright? You’re shaking?”

“I don’t want to rush,” he whispered, sleepy-eyed and sweet, and his nose softly nuzzled her. “We barely started kissing.”

“We’ve kissed lots of times,” she argued, and as she smiled he did the same.

Steven squeezed her lightly. “I know, but... we only just started, like, a week ago.”

Connie let her hands slide up slowly, weaving gently into his soft curls. Her fingers trailed across his scalp, and when he shivered this time, she had no worries about what it meant. “We waited forever. We can rush today.”

She hardly had time to gauge his reaction before his lips had leapt to her neck with a relieved gasp. Her eyes closed tighter, her toes curling as he explored the sensitive skin. Soft ones first, the closed-mouth pecks she’d come to expect, and then an open-mouth kiss that gently sucked on her skin. Once - to make sure she wouldn’t stop him, then over and over again with the occasional whisper of adoration. _Wonderful. Beautiful. Brilliant._

Her stomach knotted up with heat and thrill, each breath coming like the first swallow of air after too long under the water - deep enough to make her feel every one. He dipped lower, kissing her collarbone, pausing, then slowly licking along the exposed skin. Her hands felt odd in his hair, wanting to pull and tug, which seemed too rough for now. Later, maybe.

As his fingers slipped under her shirt, the palms burning against her lower back, she let her arms wrap around the broadness she had always admired and clung. She heard herself swallow over the drumbeat of her heart, muffled squeaks at the first touch of teeth on her collarbone.

His palm had moved to her leg without her realizing, and his thumb smoothed along the line of muscle in her calf. He’d admired that, hadn’t he? She was sure she should respond with more than clinging, though she felt lost as Steven’s desires seemed so readily available, and her own felt foggy at best.

Connie hadn’t had much time to imagine much kissing in between her study sessions.

She knew she liked his back, and remembered moments her breath had gone still from Steven stripping off his shirt while she watched from behind. She knew she liked the strength of him, the way he moved, his smile. His hands. She took one from her leg, and while he was distracted by her neck, she softly kissed each finger until his own lips had stopped and his eyes were on her. She mimicked his praise once she had his eyes - _Handsome. Amazing. I love you._

Her chest was still heaving, impossible to catch her breath with the newness of it all, and she decided to pull his hand towards her. She’d circumvent his own nervousness and restraint with a push of her own, but before his fingers could settle against the curves of her, branches cracked and the two sprang apart. 

They were sprawled apart in the dirt, breathing like they’d sprinted a marathon, and their guilty glances fell on one another. Giggles burst free as they remembered they were alone in the woods, and certainly old enough to be kissing without getting scolded. 

“I should probably get to work on the potatoes.” She grinned and started to back away, but Steven’s fingers curled softly around her wrist. 

“Do you want to take care of me?”

“Of course I do, silly.” Connie snorted.

She squeaked in surprise as his fingers dipped into her pocket, her skin sensitive and nerves on alert from their earlier kissing, but it was only to pull out the plastic bag of chives. His smile grew a little teasing. “You want to make sure I’m well fed, right?”

She could feel her cheeks heat as she reached for the bag, but it _was_ true. The moment her hands curled around it, the herbs burst from their confines. Dozens of stalks fell into Steven’s lap as they went from cut up pieces to fully grown chives, and the onion smell thoroughly killed the romance in the air. He grinned, gesturing.

“You _looove_ me,” he said, half-singing and looking absurdly delighted, and she ruffled his hair with a laugh.

“Very much,” she agreed, and kissed him once again before rushing off to tend to the potatoes. It was a bit of a task with Steven sneaking kisses at every turn, but she managed well enough, and was far too happy to even think of asking him to stop.

* * *

The rest of the day passed quickly, and that night they once again went back to their tent with a kiss and sweet goodnights. Their sleeping bags zipped up separate, but in the small tent their legs occasionally brushed through all the thick fabric. 

When she woke, she was alone. Her eyes blinked open to the sleepy morning light that filtered through the blue canvas. Thankfully, there was no time for panic or worry to set in.

The floor of the tent was spotted with flower petals - the hibiscus that so regularly seemed to follow him around. She rolled out of bed, taking a soft, still lively petal between her fingertips. Velvet and delicate, she couldn’t help but smile at the pretty thing before turning to the flap.

She unzipped the tent and squinted as warm sunlight filled her eyes. There were more petals at her feet leading off in a trail, and her smile grew ever wider. Just a second to tug on her shoes - then Connie set off down the path Steven had made for her. It wasn’t a long walk, and led to a spot that, just yesterday, had been a simple grassy meadow.

This morning it was full of dahlias.

The flowers came in a rainbow of colors all around her, gorgeous clusters of small petals in a variety of shapes from the subspecies. She laughed, more shocked than anything, and her hands came up to her mouth as she took in the endless points of beauty. In the center of it all sat Steven, and in his hands were the clover she had grown not long ago, sweetly tied into a crown for her.

“Before you say anything,” he began, speaking just a little loud to make up for the distance between them. “I know that they’re not from around here and I’ll pull all of them before we leave so it doesn’t mess up the ecosystem.”

She bit her lip, letting her hands fall over her heart as she continued to take it all in. “You know, Steven? For once I’m actually not thinking about the health of the local flora and invasive species.”

“Wow. Guess I did pretty well.” He laughed and ducked his head a little, again peering at her under his lashes. “Unless you’re getting sick?”

“Not even a little,” she murmured. “How long did this take you?”

“Longer than I want to admit.” He snorted and looked down at his hands, fiddling with the flowers he had knotted together. “Um, listen, I know you asked me to use my head, and I did, but…”

Connie stepped carefully through the flowers so as not to crush a single one, giggling as she made her way to the center and her adorably romantic boy. “Steven, I wanted to know that you thought it through. I didn’t expect a passionless report. I _expect_ schmaltz.”

“Schmaltz is okay?” he asked as she stepped close.

“Schmaltz is you. Of course it’s alright.”

“Good. Because I thought about it really hard and it’s going to be really sappy.”

Steven raised the crown up, and Connie ducked her head to let him set it in place. With a wry little smile, she whispered, “Then go ahead. Lay it on me.”

“It sounds like there’s a lot of stuff you’re scared of.” He let the flowers fall against her head, and his fingers began to gently fix each blossom. Every movement was light, making her hair tingle against her scalp with each gentle motion. “I wish I could say that stuff scared me too, but it doesn’t. I don’t really think you’re going to leave me.”

“Anymore,” she mumbled to him, raising an eyebrow. “Because you-”

She could see the little tick of frustration and consternation spread across his face, his voice just a bit sulky as he muttered, “Okay, we don’t need to bring up the time I cried at the roller rink. Or the time I cried when you told me you wanted to go to college out of state.”

“What about the time I called Patricia my best friend and you cri-?”

He cut her off, and she really couldn’t blame him. “All things we don’t need to talk about. I had abandonment issues and I got therapy and I’m doing better.”

Connie cleared her throat, swallowing a giggle at the way his face had wrinkled up. “Right. Sorry. Not the time to embarrass you. Go ahead.”

“Thank you.” He grinned, dropping his hands from her head. “But like you said, I know what it feels like to be where you are now - at least a little bit. And all the stuff you said about rules and your mom... I think they kinda have the same answer.”

“What’s that?”

Steven took her hands in his with a smile, his eyes meeting hers. “You’re my new goal.”

Connie felt heat rise to her cheeks this time, a sudden rush of feelings making her head reel as Steven explained himself.

“I can’t imagine how awful it must have felt to get left behind and get pushed away when I needed to save the world.” He shook his head and stepped closer, so there was barely any air between them. Steven’s fingers softly brushed her hair behind her ear. “But it’s never going to happen again, because I’m not going to save the world anymore.”

The words made her throat tighten, but she swallowed the lump before it could grow and replaced it with a laugh. “You can’t know that.”

“As much as I can know anything, I know I’m done,” Steven insisted. His eyes burned hot into hers, and his voice lowered with seriousness. “I have spent _years_ making sure other people can take care of the world and Little Homeworld and the gempire. When it was between you and the universe, I _had_ to choose the universe. But I’m never making the choice again. That’s someone else’s job.”

She felt her heart drum in her chest, and her hands squeezed his tight. It felt almost wrong to hope for it, wrong to want it, but the sincerity in his face took her breath away, and all she could manage was, “Is that what you want?”

“I just want to be me,” Steven said, “and I’ve been trying to be ever since Spinel happened. I think there’s work I want to do in the world. There’s stuff I want to see. But I…”

He lowered his face then, taking a steadying breath. Again she squeezed his fingers, more encouraging this time as she murmured, “Steven? Are you okay?”

“Sorry. I just want to say it right so you know I really thought it through.” He screwed his eyes up tight, the kind of face he made when he was struggling to work out something tricky. The furrow between his brows was one she had thoroughly memorized in every combat, every diplomatic talk he’d ever had.

Finally, he nodded to himself. His eyes opened, dark and deep and adoring as they met hers. “Connie, I know that career plans might change and life might take us all kinds of places, but I know that I want to be by your side through all of it. No matter what happens, I want to be there for _you_ over anything else.

“I wanted you on my gem because I always want some part of me to be with you. You were the first person I ever fused with. You’re still the only person that makes fusion so easy we can do it by mistake.”

Steven laughed, dropping her hand to cradle her cheeks between both his own. “You’re my _partner,_ Connie. From here on out, you’re number one on my list. I’m never holding you back from anything you want to do. I’m never pushing you away - not for anything big, not ever again.”

There was something humming in her chest, a desperation in her heart that was soothed by the steadiness of his words. His fingers fell from her face and softly pushed up her shirt. His hand was on her belly, on her gem, so his words were suddenly backed by an unavoidable wave of love.

“You’re everything to me, Connie. I gave you part of my soul. If I ever try to leave or push you away, it’ll hurt me just as badly as it hurts you. It’ll rip me apart to take my gem back. And I’m not scared at all.”

He laughed quietly, and his forehead rested against hers. She closed her eyes, and it didn’t matter at all. She could feel him, see everything he needed to show, through his hand on her belly. 

“Because I’m in love with you, Connie, and I’m never leaving you again.”

She pushed his shirt aside, her hand against his. Her heart pounded, her head swimming as tears rose to her eyes. Relief and love and the feeling of fears falling back to slumber, and his matching gasp from the contact of her fingers on the smooth facets of his gem was enough to make a tearful giggle leap from her lungs.

“I’m in love with you too,” she said. “I’m really…”

There were no more words to find. She flung herself into his arms, safe and secure, and the place where their gems met might as well have been fusion for the way they blended together.


	15. Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One final dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to give a sincere thank you from the bottom of my heart to NewLense for helping me with all the romance in this story. She has been an incredible source of help. As always, thank you to my husband EchoFour for being there for everything, and a thank you to Follower of Mercy as well, who beta'd some early chapters, and also gave me inspiration with the romantic plant powers!
> 
> You're all amazing!

They decided they would head home the next day, and took advantage of the time alone.

It was mostly saccharine sweetness. There was kissing, romantic proclamations, giggling discussions of who had fallen in love first and when. They talked about dates and plans and rearranging schedules so that the blossoming romance wouldn’t be crushed under business and responsibilities. The first challenge came quick.

Steven had hoped they could stay just a couple days more to savor the growing romance, but college applications and admittance tests were just around the corner. Connie couldn’t delay cram school in good conscience. In between quite a lot of kissing, she promised him her Saturday afternoons, and assured him she’d work hard to give more whenever it was available. He got more by suggesting he stay with her while she studied.

Things worked.

“Hey,” Connie said that night. She held her sleeping bag in hand, the coarse but sleek fabric rustling as she fiddled with it. “I was thinking we could zip our sleeping bags together. Not for anything weird, just for cuddling. With the sleep portaliing, it might be something we have to get used to anyway.”

She felt her face heat at the awkwardness of it all, but there wasn’t any kind of uncomfortable joke from him. He just giggled, and the two of them made quick work of turning two sleeping bags into one big one. Their hands brushed, and neither thought anything of it as the intimacy was back to familiar.

“You know,” he joked, “I can’t say I mind having a magical excuse to cuddle. Your parents can’t even do anything about it.”

Connie paused at that. The realization slowly took hold that a conversation really wasn’t going to fix the sleep portaling. That as long as she loved him and wanted to be beside him, the odds were good that she’d fall asleep in her bed and wake up in his. She laughed and nodded. “Yeah. It’s nice to have a way to make sure we’ll almost never have to sleep alone.”

“Wow. Um.” She saw his throat contract with a swallow, back to the rapid eye blinking that meant he was holding back the tears that came to him so quickly. “You really changed your mind about this stuff, huh?”

She ruffled his hair. “I was just overwhelmed, silly. But loving you - wanting to be with you - that was never a question.”

Steven kissed her again like he’d been doing all day. His hands came to her cheeks and she held still for as long as he stayed there, basking in the glow of being loved. They slid into the sleeping bag together then, and she let her arm drape across his side as they spooned and listened to crickets chirp under the stars.

“Do you think….” Connie began, and the words stuck for a moment as she felt like she was asking just a bit too much, just for a moment, before continuing: “Do you think you could dreamwalk tonight? I think the nightmares are done, but…”

She pushed her face against his back, squeezing him a little tighter, and despite the awkward angle his hand reached up to lovingly scratch her head. His voice was a whisper, though there wasn’t any need to be quiet alone in the woods. “What if we tried to share another dream? I bet we could make something nice together.”

“But you can’t control the dream like that,” she said, and hoped he could hear her even with her voice muffled by his shirt. “You won’t have your powers or anything.”

“They didn’t help last time. Besides, I feel like I should probably keep out of manipulating my girlfri-”

He stopped suddenly. It took a moment for Connie to realize the reason why his words had gone dry, and her face moved from his back to his ear as she tried to swallow down giggles. “It’s okay. I like girlfriend.” She nuzzled back down to his neck, and this time her squeeze was nothing but affection. “And I think boyfriends should definitely avoid sneaking into their girlfriend’s dreams. Very shady. But it’s alright if you’re invited.”

“Vampire rules.” He laughed.

Sleep came up on them quickly, and things started to blur between real and dream, magic and human, so thought she was sure the conversation happened, that it _must_ have happened, she was unsure of how it had happened at all.

_How do we dream together?_

_It’s easy. You just want it._

_You sure?_

_Yeah. Sometimes wanting is hard, but it’s always just wanting._

* * *

The room they existed in when they fused was always empty and blue. It looked like the kind of place that would be cold, but it wasn’t. Not ever. It was just cool. The temperature of an evening after a day was long and hot and the sun was setting and the sweep of wind was all you needed to blow away the lingering burn. The feeling of a still river on a scorching summer day. Cool.

They were laying side by side.

Steven’s eyes tracked butterflies that swirled overhead without landing. Distant, lazy thoughts that fluttered down and up and all around with the meandering nature of a brain with nothing to do but think.

“Hey,” she said softly. “Have you ever read a book so hard you forgot you exist?”

“Yeah.”

“How do you deal with that?” she asked. Her eyes crossed as a butterfly landed on her forehead, little legs tickling against her skin. “How do you deal with losing yourself in something else? Someone else?”

His fingers were on his gem, his shirt pushed up so it glowed against the blue room, and butterflies showered down on him as his index finger traced the smooth surface. “You are who you are. Thinking you’re someone else can’t take that away.”

“But what if you come back different? Doesn’t it stick to you, losing yourself in someone else like that?”

“Mmm,” he hummed. “But that’s being human. Changing based on the people around you. You don’t come out of a fusion just the same. Not really. That’s being a person.”

“Isn’t that scary?”

“Not to me.” His finger reached out to stroke the butterfly on her forehead, and as he shifted it fluttered away, vanishing under the relentless calm of his smile. “But it’s okay to be scared. Change can be scary. It’s okay.”

She raised her hand, fingers limp, and watched another butterfly land. Flicking in and out of existence, she could see the strings beneath her skin, looped and knotted and stretching towards Steven. Oh. They were there then? Still. They were there. Her eyes slid to him.

“Steven?”

“Mmm?”

“Do you have strings?”

“Yeah.”

“Isn’t that scary?”

“Not to me.” 

For a few brief moments his gem glowed so the room was cast in pink light. Her strings matched the glow, the exact same shade, so they faded to nearly nothing. Instead, she saw blue. The tangles poured from her to him, and they wrapped around his chest and arms and neck in pretty, knitted rows. He wore blue strings like a sweater.

Her mind moved like molasses as it slowly came together, because blue wasn’t Steven. He looked so odd in it. But how odd would she look in pink? Her fingers ghosted across her chest, and, wonderingly, she stared at the pulsing pink heart in her hand. 

_My heart_. That’s what he had told her, the not-real Steven, and she’d argued with him without thinking it through. She cocked her head, and the logic slowly dripped into place as Steven pulled a blue mess of strings from his own chest. It beat slowly in his hand, and she felt his fingers on her soul as if he had placed his hand against her gem. 

“That one’s mine,” she said. “You have it.”

Steven was Steven, even in a dream, and he threw a lazy grin her way. “I knew I was good at tugging at your heartstrings, but this is ridiculous.”

She burst into laughter at the awful, awful joke, and the butterflies were startled away. Everything was startled away, so there was nothing but them and a room and the weight of the strings that had once been choking fading to nothing, like another piece of clothing against her skin. Under her skin. Gone.

She reached into the empty space between them, strings almost existing but not, not now, in the dream they shared. Her voice was cool and steady even the realization set in. “All the time I was struggling and fighting… it was your heart I was hurting.”

They were by a green lit pool in evening light, and the older teens talking around them were tall and frightening and also nothing at all, because they had been apart and nearly died and nothing really mattered save for the fact that Connie’s hair was short for the first time and Steven was wearing the shirt she had bought for him.

“Relationships are hard,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I was pushing. I wasn’t listening. I should have asked better.”

“I should have said better.”

“We’re part of each other. We hurt when the other person gets hurt. We’re happy when the other person gets happy. And more.” His hand traced his gem. “A lot more.”

They were standing in Lars’s ship, side and side, and they weren’t touching because they’d been fused for so long, afraid of not being fused, that touching almost felt like too much. Touching felt like it would snap them back together, and they needed just a few minutes, a few small minutes, to breathe in two bodies instead of one.

“Do you remember the Jungle Moon?” she asked.

“You were afraid.” His hand pressed against the smooth, clear, cold window of the ship. He looked out at the stars. “You were afraid of not existing. Am I doing that to you? I don’t want to.”

“No. Maybe it’s not all me. Maybe it’s not all human, or all gem. It’s a little bit of everything. Like you. Like us.” Her hand pressed against the back of his, even though they hadn’t touched then, but it wasn’t then. They were older. It was different now.

“Do you know why I wanted you on my gem?” he asked, and they sat in the cold empty prison on Homeworld with no chance of getting free.

“Why?”

“Do you know why you were my first fusion?” he asked, and they were staring up at the sky arena from the ground, and even unfused they could see the butterflies above their faces as they looked at the clouds and sun.

“Why?”

“Because when you danced with me,” he said, “all you wanted was to dance with me.”

 _What else could I want from you?_ She asked, but didn’t ask. The dream fixed itself, so the question was undone before it ever happened. There was no need to ask, to make him say it, when she knew the answer just fine.

There were so many things in the world she could have asked of him. Wonderful things. She could ask for them now. He had money and power. If she spoke the word, he’d give everything to her, whatever he could.

She was on a pink throne and in a mansion and in a castle and on a new planet and life was anything, anything she could ask for. He could scream down the world. He could scream down the Diamonds. Smallest and strongest of all of them, all at once. Strongest and weakest of them, all at once.

He had learned to guard himself against the weakest parts, but there was no space left in him to defend against her. Steven gave. Even when he knew it would hurt, he gave because he wanted to, and so many people wanted to take. If she took, he would give, because there had to be some people he could trust.

“All I ever wanted was a best friend,” she whispered, and her hair was long and her glasses weighed softly on the bridge of her nose and she had to look down at him because he was so very, very short.

There was music on his phone and waves against the shore, and his hand was reaching out to hers.

“All I ever wanted was someone who wanted to dance with me,” he said.

_Dance with me?_

* * *

When Stevonnie woke, they breathed deep, and chill quickly sunk down to their bones. Ah. So that was why they were awake - a cold morning and too much bare skin. The sleeping bag was torn a little, struggling to keep up with the size of them. With a snort, they unzipped it and tried to salvage the mostly unbroken thing.

The part of them that was more Steven thought that Pearl could stitch it up. The part of them that was more Connie thought that stitching was the kind of useful skill that one of them should learn. Both of them decided sleep wasn’t coming back.

They crawled out of the tent with a groan and found the sun still hiding, just barely. Their eyes flicked to the peaks overhead. Well. Lemons and lemonade. No point in wasting a sunrise. 

Bare feet passed over stone and sticks unharmed.

“We’re very big,” Stevonnie said as they walked to the ledge of a cliff.. “And very strong. And, together, I don’t think anyone could stop us. Even the Diamonds couldn’t stop us, right? Because we were together.”

The valley stretched below as the sun burned orange and yellow beyond. More peaks stretched ahead, and the world really was pretty here. Pretty and quiet and lonely. They breathed deep and held their own hands.

“But we have to be together.”

Steven and Connie stood side by side as the sun rose higher, from burning to cool behind the clouds, as birdsong began behind them. Their fingers brushed, and clover and dahlias grew beneath their feet despite the fact that the ground beneath them was more rock than dirt.

“I love you,” he said.

And she hadn’t said it before, not like that. Not in real life. But the words came easy. “I love you too.”

And so they stood alone together - a little different than before. But as Connie’s fingers wove through Steven’s, and the sunlight poured into the valley, her fears settled into the back of her mind.

Instead, she felt for his gem with her own, and let love pour in like sunlight.


End file.
